


Best Day So Far

by pidginenglish



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Romance, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:53:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4338317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pidginenglish/pseuds/pidginenglish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrett Hawke is a normal college freshman: Awkward, nerdy as hell, insecure, and no idea what he wants to do with his life. He's not even good at anything, so what's the point of trying? Then he gets dragged to a frat party and meets a stranger.<br/>...Well, there may be some things worth trying for after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh God What

It's too much, Garrett decides as he tries to find a way out. There's way too many people, way too much noise, and in general way too much for him. He doesn’t know anyone here. He supposes he only really has himself to blame, what with only venturing out of his dorm for food and class. He just… doesn’t feel right being in the middle of a sea of people. And it sure does feel like a sea of people, that's how tightly packed everyone is.

He squeezes past a couple making out in the middle of the hall, nearly spilling his Dixie cup of beer when one of them pops their foot back. They have dog shit on the bottom of their shoe, and he’d prefer not to come into contact with that. He keeps his eyes on the floor in front of him, wanting to let them have their moment in relative privacy. 

He really regrets agreeing to come to this stupid frat party. He doesn't even like fraternities. Or parties. Isabela had just wanted to come for the free beer. She’d begged and begged and even given him some incredibly sad puppy dog eyes. Damn, that wasn’t fair. He’s a sucker for sad puppy dog eyes, and she knows it. 

Come to think of it, where is Isabela? He realizes he hasn’t seen her for at least the last hour. The music—some bass-heavy number—drowns out his groan of irritation. Beyonce? He doesn’t even know. Great, he thinks. I've been abandoned. He makes a mental note to find Isabela and yell at her later. First things first. He needs air. Badly. 

He finishes his cup, and someone passes him another half-full cup. He doesn't even see who did it, and he feels like it would be rude to refuse. So now he's stuck awkwardly holding another cup of beer. This is, what, his fifth cup? He's not even sure, but he feels like he's probably had too much.

He stumbles up the stairs, nearly tripping over his feet on the way up. _Damn. Okay. Note to self: Don't drink so much next time. If there is a next time._ He'd rather not repeat this experience. 

At some point, he finds himself just going into some random room and out onto a balcony. He gasps for air, feeling more than a little bit overwhelmed, but oh, it feels so amazing to just gulp in cold night air. The lighting’s crappy, though. He can’t really see much. With a sigh, he closes the sliding glass door behind him and leans back against it. He lets his legs give out from under him and slides down onto his butt. 

He takes a small sip of the beer and grimaces. It’s not very good beer, he thinks. Not that he really knows much about beer. He just knows that he doesn't really like it. His head is feeling light and swimmy, like someone took his brain and left it floating in a bucket of water. Okay, so he has had too much to drink. This is kind of embarrassing. He's come to a party that he never wanted to come to in the first place, he can't find his friend, and now he's learning that he's a lightweight. Best day so far.

“Ah, you too?” says a voice to his right. 

He squeaks (he'll tell himself later that it was a manly yelp, thank you very much) and looks to the source of the voice. The dark makes it hard to see. There’s light hair, blond probably, and big eyes. Green? Blue? 

“Um,” he says intelligently. He closes his eyes again. His stomach is churning uncomfortably. 

“Sorry,” the owner of the voice says. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yeah, just had too much to drink.” Garrett clears his throat and regrets it. His stomach feels like it’s rolling over and rebelling against him. “I swear I don’t normally drink. Or party. I don’t even know why I came here.”

“I know the feeling,” the other guy says. His voice is pleasantly deep. “A friend of mine invited me, but she never showed up.”

“Lemme guess. You need to go out and meet people? You can’t spend your entire college career sitting in your dorm doing nothing all day?”

The other guy chuckles. Garrett’s glad that it’s dark out, so the other guy with the attractive voice can’t see him blush. Maybe it's the drink, but he feels like he can listen to that voice all day. “That sounds about right.”

“What’re friends for?” Garrett says with a chuckle. He regrets it immediately. He's going to be sick. 

Garrett lurches to his feet and leans over the balcony. His head feels like it’s spinning, and there’s an gross ball in his stomach that really wants out. He claps a hand over his mouth. Not good. Oh, not a good feeling at all. He groans. It's right there in his throat, and he'd really rather not. Not in front of someone that he barely even knows.

“Perhaps you should sit down.” He hears the other guy getting to his feet and taking a couple of tentative steps toward him. “Would you like me to get you some water?” When Garrett doesn't reply, trying to master control of his stomach, the other guy starts walking past him. “I'll be right back,” he says, “Just stay here.”

It's quiet again, and Garrett is left alone with his thoughts. Thoughts like, _Gee, it sure is cold out here. Oh, is that an owl? I love owls._ He shivers and pulls his hoodie over his head. At least his ears won't be cold. Muffled rap music drifts out through the windows on the first floor, the bass vibrating the floor. He swallows and rubs his stomach. He's starting to feel a little bit better. 

“I'm back,” the other guy says. “Sorry it took so long.” He holds a cup of water out. “You should probably drink this. It'll help you feel a little better.”

Garrett turns to tell him that it’s all right, he just needs to stay out here for a little while, when his stomach heaves and he vomits all over the other guy’s shoes.

\---

Isabela laughs hysterically when Garrett tells everyone about it the next day. Anders is out for class, so Isabela takes up his bed, head resting on her arms. She looks quite content on that bed. Funny, because it’s like lying on a rock. Dorm beds are ridiculously hard. Then again, Garrett suspects that Isabela can make herself comfortable in just about any situation. It's like she's some kind of situational chameleon. That mental image does make him feel a little bit better. 

“No way! Then what happened?” she says, her tone downright scandalous. She’s still grinning and giggling. 

“It’s not that funny,” Garrett says. “I threw up all over him and left. That's all.” He’s sitting on his own bed, hugging his long gangly awkward legs. “Well, more like ran out. It was really embarrassing.”

“You didn’t even offer to clean up?”

“I did, but it was like… And I was like…” Garrett buries his face in his hands. “I think we just used a pillowcase.”

Varric makes a disgusted noise from his spot on the floor. “Not that this conversation isn’t charming, but I think we’re missing the bigger issue. Did you get his name?”

“Er, no. It didn’t come up.” 

“Seriously? Not even his number?” 

“What? No.”

Isabela makes a loud noise that resembles a dying whale. “Garrett. Really? For reals? You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Because I didn’t ask for a guy’s number after puking on his shoes.” Garrett’s still covering his face. “You’re kidding.”

“Oh, for the love of… You meet someone that you find reasonably attractive, you don’t just let that go!” She throws a stuffed cat at him. 

Garrett catches the stuffed tabby cat and squeezes it a couple of times. “His voice is attractive. I’m pretty sure that’s not a good basis for a relationship.” _Not that I’m thinking about a relationship with someone I’ve known for, what? Five, ten minutes?_

“So you’ve thought about a relationship with Sexy Voice,” Varric points out with a huge shit-eating grin. “Don’t deny it.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Garrett sighs. “Look, it really doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’ll see him again. How many people are on campus at a given time? The odds of my finding him are…” He pauses to think it over, pretending to do complex sums in his head. His tongue even sticks out a little for dramatic effect. “Really freaking small.”

Isabela rolls her eyes at him and mumbles, “Nerd.”

“Anyway, the point is, I probably won’t be seeing him again. So there.” He stretches out his legs, and Varric leans to one side to avoid being kicked in the head, not that he needs to worry about it. Dwarves. He’s trying to keep his tone light, and he knows he’s right. But there’s still a cold regret that’s settled somewhere in his chest. 

“Campus isn’t that big, Hawke,” Varric says. “You’re giving up way too easy.” He scratches his nose. “I betcha I can find him. I know just about everyone on campus, after all.” He flashes an award-winning smile. 

“If I say ‘okay,’ will you drop it?” _Seriously._

“I’ll think about it.” It's obvious from Varric's tone that he has no intention of dropping it.

“I won’t!” Isabela says, waving her hand in the air. When Varric gives her a look, she sighs and drops her hand. “Fine. But I really think you oughtta chase after him, Garrett.”

“Chase after who?” says a new voice. Garrett jumps about a foot in the air before trying to pretend he wasn't startled at all. 

His roommate, Anders, lets the door slide shut behind him. He’s let his blond hair down today, and it looks really nice framing his face like that. His glasses are a little fogged up, and he takes them off to clean them with his band T-shirt before putting them back on. 

“Hi, Andy-poo,” Isabela says in a sultry voice. Anders wrinkles his nose, causing his glasses to slide down.

“Please don’t call me that.” He turns his attention to the other two in the room. “Who’re we talking about?”

Garrett makes an embarrassing noise that closely resembles a bird. A dying one. “Nobody. Really,” he says, glaring at Isabela in a way that he hopes is stern. She snorts, burying her face in Anders’s pillow and snuggling it. 

“It doesn’t sound like nobody.” He frowns. “Anybody? No one? Ugh. Never mind.”

“Hawke met someone at that party on Saturday,” Varric says. “He’s got a little crush.” 

“No, I don’t,” Garrett says a little too quickly. When the others stare at him with varying degrees of disbelief, he blushes and scratches his beard. 

“I see,” Anders says, seeming to lose interest. He drops his messenger bag off at his desk and searches around for a hair tie. How one man can go through so many hair ties, Garrett has no clue. It seems like he’s always losing the damn things. One time Garrett found one under his pillow. Neither of them had any idea how it had appeared there. “How did that go? The party, that is.”

“Terrible,” Garrett admits, watching his roommate tie his hair back into a loose ponytail. He briefly, very briefly, considers growing his hair out before deciding that it would look stupid on him. He's already got way too much hair to deal with. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Fair enough.” Anders pauses, licks his lips. “Is he cute?”

“It was too dark to…” He stops. “Really?”

“Can’t blame me for trying.” Anders shrugs. “Isabela, do we still have that paper due on Thursday?”

“Uggggh, don’t remind me. I haven’t even started on it.” She rolls onto her back and pouts. It’s adorable. 

Anders goes into a lecture about taking responsibility for one’s grades. Garrett’s heard the lecture a million times. Something about applying yourself and being ready for the real world. Employers look at grades, all that wonderful crap that he doesn’t like thinking about. He’s still in his second semester of college, for crying out loud. 

Varric’s clearly tuning him out, instead pulling out a pen and writing something on his hand. Poetry? 

“Speaking of being responsible, don’t you have class in, like, five minutes?” Isabela sits up, resting her head on her knee.

“Shit.” Garrett grabs his backpack and waves. “Gotta run!”

As he’s leaving, he thinks he hears Varric say something, but he misses it completely. Probably ribbing him about the guy with the voice. Whatever, he thinks. Everyone’s gonna get bored teasing him after a while. He hums on his way to class, ignoring the way his chest flutters when he thinks of that voice. 

It’ll all pass. 

It usually does. 

\---

He sighs with relief when the instructor lets them out for class early. Some days he’s okay with just sitting there, doodling in the middle of class rather than paying attention. (Anders would probably have a fit if he knew.) Today, though, class just felt like it was dragging on. He already knows how to construct a basic essay, and he knows how topic sentences work. They should have gone through this stuff back in high school, for crying out loud. Still, he supposes that he should be glad it was an easy day. 

He pops a stick of blueberry-flavored gum on his way back to his dorm. He’s not really hungry, so he figures he’ll probably eat with the others later on. Nothing like fine campus dining to keep you going. He snorts at the thought. Yeah right!

He walks the familiar path to his dorm, headphones blasting Led Zeppelin. As he approaches the main door to the his res hall, he reaches into his pocket for his student ID card. And stops.

“Huh?” He pats his pockets, searches his sweater. “What the hell?”

He tosses his backpack onto the ground and searches the front pocket. Nothing. Shit. 

Side pocket? Still nothing. Shit. 

He empties his backpack out onto the ground. It’s not there. _Shiiiiiit. Okay, Garrett, don’t panic. You had to have used it to get in last time. When was the last time you used it?_

He bites his lower lip, trying not to freak out too much. This morning at breakfast? No, he'd just eaten some Pop Tarts on the way to class rather than eating at the dining hall. The last time he’d used his ID was before the party… Could he have lost it at the party? When? Where? He groans loudly. 

“Fan-freaking-tastic.” He peeks into the main lobby. For once it’s completely empty, so there isn’t anyone who can let him in. “Crap.” He tries calling Anders, who doesn’t answer. When it goes to voicemail, he says (growls, more like), “Anders, answer your phooooone.” 

He sends a text: _Hey, I think I lost my ID. I can’t get in. :( Help._

There. That’s nice and calm, right? 

There’s a patch of grass in front of the building. He sits on it and spreads out. The ground is really soggy, but he doesn’t care. He uses his backpack as a pillow and stares up at the overcast sky. “Best day so far,” he mutters with a sigh. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he checks it.

He’s gotten a text back from Anders: _What do you mean, you lost it! What if someone stole it?_

With a growl, he texts back: _Thanks, I really don’t need to be thinking about that. Ass. Where are you?_

Anders: _In class, of course._

Garrett: _You’re texting in class? Naughty, naughty. ;)_

Anders: _Do you want me to help you or not? >:( I’m on my way, class just ended. _

The wait’s going to be long. It already feels like Garrett’s been sitting out here forever. He sighs, ignoring the dampness that’s starting to seep onto his skin. He’s probably going to have mud all over his butt. It’s not like anyone’s watching him…

Are they? He sits straight up and looks around frantically. There’s a couple of girls walking in front of him, away from the res hall. One of the girls looks at him in curiosity before the other one tugs her arm to get her to move faster. They probably think I’m weird. Aw, hell. I am weird. He waves, hoping that he doesn’t scare them off too badly. The girl (an elf, he hasn't seen many elves around campus) who was staring at him waves back before giggling and walking away. 

He starts to lie back down, thinking about when he could have lost his stupid student ID. Maybe it had fallen out of his pocket when he went up the stairs. Or maybe, hopefully, it was sitting on his bed. He bites his thumbnail. This is dumb. How could he be so dumb?

“By the way,” Anders says, leaning over Garrett, “I do answer my phone. Just not normally when I’m in class.” He holds out a hand to help Garrett up. “Please tell me that you weren’t sitting in the mud feeling sorry for yourself all this time.”

“Um, no, of course not.” _I’m the worst liar ever._ He gives Anders his best award-winning smile. “Mud happens to be good for your skin. You should try it sometime.”

Anders sighs. “Well, I guess I should let you in.” As they walk to their room, he adds, “Are you sure it’s not on your bed? Or your desk?”

“That’s what I’m hoping, to be honest.” Garrett laughs nervously at the look on his roommate’s face. He holds up the room key. “Just be glad I didn’t lose this.” He takes that opportunity to unlock the door.

“No kidding.” Anders pauses and his gaze slowly wanders down. “Did you know that you have mud all over your back and… legs?” He coughs, and his cheeks turn pink.

Garrett shrugs. “I’ve been covered in worse.” He grabs a new pair of pants and a T-shirt before stepping into the bathroom to change. When he comes out, feeling a little cleaner, he says to Anders, “So do you see it anywhere?”

“Ah… I haven’t even looked. I didn’t think you’d like me digging through your things.” 

“Aw, that’s…”

“Besides, what if I ran into porn? No thanks.”

“I don’t keep porn.”

“Nobody likes a liar, Hawke.” Anders looks completely serious. “Everyone has porn. Everyone.”

“I… really didn’t need to know that.” He searches his bed. No luck there. “Maybe my desk…” After a long, thorough search, during which Anders checks his side of the room “in case Isabela thought she was being funny,” they still don’t find the missing ID card. “Dammit. I really don’t know where it went.” He gasps in horror. “Anders. What if someone’s using it to get crappy dining hall food? They’re burning my dinky little meal plan on shitty food!”

“I’m sure it’ll turn up,” Anders says. He ignores the comment about the dining hall food. His boyfriend—Karl, Carlos?—works there, and both of them get really defensive when someone talks crap about campus dining. “It’s not in your bag?”

“No, I already looked. Several times. I even emptied it out.” Garrett sinks onto his bed. “Ugh. Mom’s gonna be so mad at me.”

“It’s not that much to replace. Twenty dollars, I think. I’ll spot you if you want.”

Garrett shakes his head. “You know I can’t do that. Thanks, though.” He frowns and buries his face in one of his pillows. “Where did it go?”

He spends the rest of the evening burying himself in playing one of the Pokemon games. He'd rather not think about what a giant pile of fail he is.


	2. Wait, What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's one mystery solved. Now what?

It’s called “The Worx!,” complete with that ridiculous exclamation point. Garrett thinks that it’s charming, if a little bit over the top. Varric calls it part of campus charm. Isabela calls it really fucking dumb, but the coffee’s great, so she’ll pretend she doesn’t really care. 

“I’ll just get us a table,” Garrett says with a sigh. He’s inclined to agree with Isabela, but Varric seems a little too emotionally invested in The Worx!. He keeps looking at the sign in front with an almost reverent expression. It’s kind of scary. 

“Don’t you want to get something, Hawke?” Varric asks.

“I don’t like coffee, remember?” He shrugs. “It’s fine. Like I said, I’m getting us a table.”

He can practically feel Isabela pouting at his back while he’s walking away. _I am not turning around._

Garrett finds a table in the corner, away from everyone. He pulls out his phone and starts playing a game. He gets really engrossed in this game. It’s like nothing else exists around him. That’s just how he likes it. Nobody around to be weirded out by his… weirdness. He gets a text just when he’s about to finish a level, and his character dies. Ugh. 

It’s Bethany. She says: _mom wants to know if your planning on coming home this weekend._

Garrett: _*you’re_

Garrett: _Yeah, I think I can make it home this weekend. Not much going on rn._

Bethany: _yay! i just told carver. hes already pouting lol._

Bethany: _YOU’RE being a butt :P anyways ill ttyl. soccer practice about to start._

Carver… He gets along with Bethany well enough. But Carver… Garrett has a really hard time connecting with Carver. It’s like they’re on completely different wavelengths. They got along great until Garrett’s second year of high school. Then he got all weird and grumpy. _Stupid moody teenage hormones,_ he thinks. _Ah, puberty. Ain’t it grand?_ He sighs and puts his phone back in his pocket. 

Varric wanders up to Garret, holding a small paper cup. He seems dazed, staring off into space until Garrett snaps his fingers a couple of times. He shakes himself and smiles as he takes a seat across from Garrett.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Garrett says.

“Mm. It’s my brother.” Varric takes a sip. “He says he wants to spend some quality time with me. Gotta wonder what he wants from me this time.” He grimaces. “And you know, he’s spouting the usual bullshit about living up to the family legacy, doing our parents proud.” 

“Oh.” Garrett can’t think of anything else to say. 

“Yeah.” Varric makes a face. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

They’re both quiet for a while. Garrett shuffles uncomfortably in his seat while Varric runs his fingers along the sides of the cup. He isn’t sure if he should try to break the tension with a stupid joke. Would it be appropriate? Or would Varric think he’s being an asshole? He settles for asking, “Where’s Isabela?”

That gets a chuckle, at least. “I think she’s flirting with the barista. The poor guy.” He jabs a thumb toward the counter.

Isabela’s practically leaning over the counter, a playful little smile dancing across her face. The barista looks a little bit uncomfortable, but he smiles as he passes her drink over to her. There’s an obscene amount of whipped cream on top. She practically skips to the table. Just before she sits, she turns and blows a kiss to the barista, who turns bright red and wipes the counter with an energy that can only be described as frantic.

“Alistair is _so_ cute,” she says with a sigh. 

“You just like him because he lets you have free drinks.” Varric smirks. 

“So’s Morrigan,” she continues. She cups her cheek in one hand, staring off into space with a dreamy smile. “Ah, so many cute people work here. I can’t stand it.” Her dreamy expression turns into a mischievous one in the blink of an eye. It almost makes Garrett’s head spin. “Speaking of cuties, did you see the new guy?”

“Oh, Fenris?”

“How do you know everyone on campus?” Garrett asks, frowning.

“It’s called talking to people, Hawke.” Varric smiles, taking a little bit of the sting from his words. 

“Ouch. Good sir, you wound me.” Garrett clutches his chest and gasps dramatically. 

“Get over it, you big baby,” Isabela says with a wink.

“You too, Isabela? You guys are so mean to me.” He laughs. Then he looks over at the counter. And he stares. 

The barista—Fenris?—is… Wow. He’s talking to Alistair, though from this distance and with all the background noise, his voice can’t be heard at all. His white hair is pinned back so that his bangs don’t fall into his eyes. And… Are those tattoos? It’s really hard to tell but he sees white lines that trace along his chin and neck before disappearing under his black uniform shirt, a long-sleeved version of Alistair’s. The way he moves… It reminds Garrett of a wolf on the hunt, focused and intent.

“Uh, Garrett? You’re drooling,” Isabela says, bringing him right back to this table. 

Garrett quickly wipes his chin. His hand comes up dry. He scratches his beard with a grumble. “No, I’m not.” He looks back up at the barista with the tattoos…

And he’s being watched right back. His gaze is intense, and Garrett feels like he’s being pinned down. Garrett looks back down at his hands, which are clenched on top of the table. _Aw, hell. What’s wrong with me? Aside from being stared at. I hate being stared at. He probably thinks I’m weird. Am I weird? Ugh. Yes._

“You should go say hi,” Isabela says, licking the whipped cream off of her drink. It looks like something with chocolate. 

“I’d rather not,” Garrett says. He already feels his heart starting to pound at the thought of talking to a complete stranger.

“He’s totally checking you out.” 

He snorts. “Yeah, right. Probably wondering why I’m not getting anything.”

“Hm.” She taps a finger on her cheek. “Varric, help me out?”

Varric’s glaring at his phone. He seems to be having a text war with his brother, and he’s not having much fun at all. “Sorry, Bels, I’m a little occupied at the moment. Code 42.”

“Forty-two?”

“Brother’s being a stupid jackass.”

“Ah.” She turns her attention back to her drink with a pout.

“So… What is that?” Garrett says in a crappy attempt to lighten the mood. He doesn’t like the look on Varric’s face. He doesn’t like Varric being upset. Heck, he doesn’t like any of his friends being upset. 

“Oh, this? It’s called a Mocha Freezie.” She grabs a napkin and dabs at her mouth. “It’s basically a Starbucks frappuccino.” At Garrett’s blank look, she clarifies, “It’s a blended coffee drink. With chocolate. It’s really tasty.” She slides her cup in front of him. “Wanna give it a try?”

Garrett looks at the drink, then at Isabela. Then at Varric, whose tongue is sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Apparently he’s still verbally sparring with his brother. Crap, what was his name again? Bert?

“Uh… Sure?” he says before taking a small sip through the straw. “It’s… not bad.”

“You can’t even taste the coffee, right?”

Then Garrett tastes it. He grimaces. Sure, there’s a hint of chocolate, but the coffee taste is still there. It’s like drinking burned dirt. He slides the cup back to Isabela, feeling like his face is trying to twist into itself. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Isabela takes one look at him and bursts into laughter. “Oh, your face! Oh no!”

Varric looks up briefly and snickers. “Geez, Hawke. You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t like coffee.” He’s grinning. “But you don’t have to cry about it.”

Then they’re all laughing. The knot that had been forming in Garrett’s chest loosens up. He looks up at the counter again, wiping a tear from his eye. The barista with the tattoos is looking at them in between helping customers. And maybe Garrett’s imagining it, but he thinks he’s smiling.  
\---

Garrett has a short one-page essay due tomorrow. Ugh. It shouldn’t be that hard. It really shouldn’t, but that white space on his screen taunts him. He glares it down, determined to conquer it. _Like a dragon!_ The prompt for the essay is on a sticky note on his laptop: How I Plan to Improve Myself This Semester. The instructor must have been feeling especially creative last week. Good thing Anders never found out that the assignment has been sitting there all this time, and now it’s getting done at the last minute. 

Speaking of Anders… He looks over at Anders’s bed. He and Karl are cuddling while they’re studying. Well, more like Anders is studying, and Karl’s playing something on his DS. In between whatever he’s doing, he pauses to nuzzle Anders, who smiles and relaxes into Karl’s arms. _Awww._ Seeing his roommate being cute and cuddly does help Garrett’s mood a little bit. Now if only he could channel that positivity into writing his stupid essay. 

He’s still staring at his laptop when he hears them kissing, that smacking as their lips meet. Okay, then. With a sigh, he types his name, the date, and the class. Standard stuff, he thinks through the slowly intensifying sound of his roommate making out with his boyfriend. This could get awkward really quickly. Well, more awkward. He types out the completely creative title, “How I Plan to Improve Myself This Semester.” There, he’s making progress. A soft moan breaks his fragile concentration. Oh. Oh, boy. He chances a peek. Anders is straddling Karl’s hips, and they’re really getting hot and heavy. Grinding is involved.

_I should go…_

He stuffs his laptop and its charger into his bag as quickly and as quietly as he can. A shirt goes flying onto the ground in front of him, and he doesn’t dare look up. He doesn’t think either of them notices that he’s slipped out the door, his whole face bright red. 

Good grief! Varric and Isabela are in class. So where should he go? There’s the campus library. He’s never been there, not even for finals last semester. 

_Ha. Take that, Isabela. I’m trying something new._  
\---

Rather than working on his essay like he should be doing, Garrett finds himself wandering rows upon rows of books. He really wishes he had his ID card. He’d love to check out a bunch of these books. He finds one called _The Holy Spirit of My Uncle’s Cojones_ and is strangely intrigued. 

_I should be working on my essay,_ a small part of him protests as he pulls the book off the shelf, sits down in the middle of the aisle, and starts reading. Before long, he’s sprawled out and using his bag as a makeshift pillow. He’s really starting to get into this book, more than he thought he would.

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea to plant himself at the very end of the aisle where no one could see him. 

He comes to that realization when someone rounds the corner and trips over his legs, nearly stepping on him as they scramble for balance. He sits up and gets to his feet, cursing his own thoughtlessness. 

“Geez, I’m sorry,” he says, probably louder than necessary. “I, uh…” He stops talking.

“It’s all right. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

That voice… Garrett’s mouth goes completely dry and all he can do is stare like an idiot.

“I just got off work, so I thought I’d come here.” He pulls his hood back, his white hair sticking up in a few places. Hoodie hair. Garrett tries not to stare at it and fails miserably. Oh hell, it’s that barista from The Worx!. Crap. What was his name? Ferrell? Francis? Frank?

“Oh. Yeah, I was coming over here to… to study,” Garrett says. He still has the book in his hand.

Francis/ Frank looks down at the floor, tucking a strand of hair behind one pointed ear. He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. A card. _No way._ A student ID card, to be exact. He looks up at Garrett, his green eyes flickering uncertainly. “Are you… Garrett Hawke?”

Garrett jerks, feeling like he’s being really creepy with how he’s staring at Francis’s eyes. “Yeah, that’s me. How did you…?”

Francis holds out his ID card. “You left this at the party. Sorry I couldn’t get it to you sooner.” He scratches the back of his neck, and Garrett sees that he’s wearing black gloves. 

“It’s okay. I kinda freaked out at first.”

Francis winces and looks back down at the floor. 

“My roommate and friends have been helping me out, so it’s fine. Really.” He takes the card with slightly shaking fingers. Francis continues to admire the floor. His eyelashes are really long. “Thanks, um…?”

“Oh.” Francis seems reluctant to look back up, but he does. It’s like making eye contact is physically painful for him. “Um, my name. Right.” He bites his lower lip, shifting his weight. “I’m Fenris.”

“And I’m Garrett. Garrett Hawke,” he says before he can stop himself. He laughs self-consciously. “But you already knew that.” He scratches his beard as Fenris-not-Francis flashes a quick little smile. “Wait, you were at the party?”

“Um… Yes?” Fenris raises an eyebrow. “We spoke briefly. You were on the tipsy side.” He clears his throat. “And, uh, you might have vomited on me.”

“Oh!” Garrett runs a hand over his face. “Oh hell. I’m really sorry about that. I swear I’m not normally like that, it’s just I wasn’t doing too well and I didn’t want to be rude but people kept handing me beer and…” He huffs out a breath. “I’m sorry about your shoes,” he finishes weakly.

Fenris chuckles, a low sound that Garrett feels down to his toes. “It’s fine. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s gotten sick on me.” He shrugs.

Garrett isn’t sure if that’s assuring. He still laughs, a little too loudly, before clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. This is a library, after all. Still smiling, he says in a softer voice, “I guess it turned out to be a good thing that I ended up here.”

“Indeed.” Fenris looks at the shelf to his left. “Hm. I actually came here to find a book for one of my classes.” He sighs and shakes his head. “The instructor forgot to put it on course reserve. She’s rather absent-minded.”

“Ah, which book? Maybe I can help you find it.” _Take that, Varric. I’m talking to people._

Fenris rubs the back of his neck again. “It’s called _The Holy Spirit of My Uncle’s Cojones._ ”

His tone, kind of dry and sarcastic, almost sends Garrett into a snickering fit. He swallows it down before saying, “Oh. I just started reading it.” It’s _still_ in his hand, and he holds it out. “Here.”

“Er, are you sure?”

“You need it for class, right?”

“I… Thank you.” Fenris meets his eyes again before looking back at the book. When he takes it, his gloved fingers brush against Garrett’s. He holds the book against his chest, looking like he wants to say something. Then he sighs and pulls the hood over his head. His bangs hang over his eyes, and he brushes them off to the side. “I should go. Um… Feel free to stop by The Worx! whenever you’d like. I’m usually closing.”

Before Garrett can say anything, Fenris walks away and disappears around the corner. He stares at the spot where Fenris was standing. His ID card is in his pocket, a distant part of himself thinks. Maybe it should go in his wallet. 

He finds the quiet study area and starts actually working on his paper in a daze. 

It isn’t until he’s done with it and halfway to his dorm when he realizes. 

Fenris is the guy with the incredibly attractive voice.

He’s pretty sure his scream can be heard clear across campus.  
\---

“So… What’s the problem?” Anders asks when Garrett gets back from class that night and explains the entire situation. There’s a ridiculous amount of flailing and incoherent noises involved.

“It’s him. Fenris is that guy. That one guy,” Garrett says. He has a hard time looking at Anders, who sports a couple of fantastic hickies. “From the party.”

“Ah. Sexy Voice, as Varric so creatively dubbed him?”

“Yeah.” He buries his face in his hands. “Ugh. I don’t know what to do. He probably thinks I’m weird.” Which, to be fair, is true. But… “I don’t want him to think I’m weird.” He hugs his pillow, burying his stupid beardy face in that instead.

“So… Why do you care?” Anders runs a hand through his hair. “Seriously, Hawke. You should be focusing on your grades. Not boys.”

“It’s not like that!” Garrett doesn’t need to see that Anders is raising an eyebrow at him. “Really. I just want to get to know him.” He uncovers his face. “Besides, what about you and Karl?”

Anders turns bright red. “Karl’s different.” When Garrett just stares at him, thoroughly unimpressed, he sighs. “All right, fine. I take it back.” He takes off his glasses, looks at them with a frown, and grabs a cleaning cloth from his desk. 

Garrett decides to start printing his essay. “So what should I do?”

Anders makes a face and a growly noise. “I don’t know, talk to him? You’re really making this more difficult than it needs to be.” He pauses to consider something, then frowns. “If that’s who I think it is, then the man’s kind of an ass.”

“Huh. Really? He didn’t seem like it when he gave me my ID. By the way, I got my student ID back.”

“Good to know.” Anders tosses the cleaning cloth back onto his desk before staring out the window. “Anyway, he’s weird.”

“Uh, so am I.”

“No, I mean he’s _weird. Nobody_ is that freakishly quiet. And what’s with that hair?”

“Okay, then…?”

“That, and I ended up in a philosophy class with him last semester.” Anders makes a disgusted noise. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so… so… argumentative and stubborn. Damn maddening, it is.”

“Um.” Garrett doesn’t know what to say to that. 

“Ugh. Now I’m getting annoyed. Can we talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Were you looking at joining any clubs? Club Showcase is next Tuesday. Or maybe something exciting happened in class.”

“Uh, not really. But I did evolve my Eevee.”

“Nice.” Anders grins. “That’s the little yellow rat thing, right?”

Garrett makes a noise that sounds like a dying whale. 

“Haha. Just kidding.” Anders tilts his head. “Hey, let’s go do something.” He grabs his car keys off his desk. “We should go eat out, get some fresh air. It’ll be good for you.” He pulls out his phone and starts texting. “I’m sure Varric and Isabela would love to join.”

“So I tell him, ‘That wasn’t a science project. That was dinner.’” Varric stuffs a couple of fries into his mouth as he finishes his story.

A round of amused chuckles circle around the table. Isabela almost chokes on her Coke. Anders shakes his head, still smiling. 

“Then what happened?” Garrett asks before finishing off his chocolate shake.

“He just… threw it out, pan and all.” Varric shrugs. “I haven’t cooked anything for the ungrateful bastard since.”

“What a shame,” Isabela says. “Your cooking isn’t _that_ bad.”

“Thanks. I think.” Varric drowns the last of his McD’s fries in ketchup. “So, Hawke, I feel the need to ask.”

_Oh boy, here it comes._

“Why d’you always order off of the kids’ menu?”

“Bethany likes collecting the toys.” Though Garrett does always feel like he’s being judged when he does that. A big guy like him ordering a kid’s meal? Yeah, that probably looks funny. 

“You know you can just buy the things, right?” Isabela says, shaking her cup. She pops the lid off and starts chewing the ice cubes.

Anders stares at her for a while before saying, “You know that’s bad for your teeth?”

“The kids’ meal?”

“Chewing on ice.”

Isabela finishes the ice cube she was chewing on. She looks thoughtful as she peers into her cup and watches the ice slowly melt. “Is that so?”

“Anyway, Isabela,” Garrett says, “It makes her happy, and I like it.”

Isabela grins. “Damn right.” She pops another ice cube into her mouth and chews on that. 

Anders groans and rolls his eyes. “You people are ridiculous.”

“And you love us,” Varric says. He’s scribbling into his notebook. Garrett never knows what he’s writing. He kind of wants to ask. But…

“What are you writing?” Anders asks, stealing his thunder. Dammit.

Varric blinks. “Oh. It’s just some stories I post online.” He clears his throat. “They’re pretty popular. Can’t say I get it; I think they’re shit. People eat it up, so hey. I guess they’re not that bad.”

“Ooh, what kind of stories?” Isabela says, her brown eyes lighting up. 

“Crappy smut that everyone goes nuts for.” Varric wrinkles his nose. “ _Swords and Shields_ is my most popular one.”

Isabela gasps. “No way! You’re the writer of _Swords and Shields_!?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you like it.”

“It’s smut. Of course I love it.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Garrett has no idea what they’re talking about. He looks to Anders, hoping for an explanation. Anders shrugs, looking about as baffled as Garrett feels. Isabela, meanwhile, continues gushing to a bemused Varric about his writing. Garrett sighs. This may take a while, so it seems like a good time to go get another shake. By the time he comes back, Isabela’s calmed down and looking very pleased. 

Garrett clears his throat. He has an idea, but he’s not sure how well it’s going to go over. It’s probably a stupid idea. “S-so, I’ve been thinking. We’re all usually here on Fridays. And I’ve been thinking about…” He coughs. “About setting up a game night.” He plays with his cup. 

“Like D and D?” Varric says. Garrett nods. “I happen to have a friend who’s willing to DM. I’ll talk to her.”

Isabela blinks slowly like a cat. “Can’t say I’m too interested in that degree of nerdiness.” 

Garrett looks down at his lap. He’d thought it was a stupid idea.

“Little late to be worrying about that.” Varric’s smile can be heard in his voice. “I think you’d already descended into nerd hell the instant you became acquainted with us.”

“I’m not a nerd,” Anders protests. The others stare at him. His cheeks turn pink. “All right, maybe a little bit.”

Garrett laughs, covering his mouth with his hand. Anders sticks his tongue out at him. 

“Laugh at me, will you? Then you can walk back to campus.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Garrett attempts to emulate Isabela’s puppy dog eyes. 

“Please don’t do that. It’s creepy.”

“It’s not creepy. It’s sad and adorable.” His cheeks burning, he goes back to studying his cup. “Anyway, it was just a thought I had.”

Isabela hums as she thinks. “I guess it isn’t a terrible idea.” She snorts, not at all ladylike. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to descend into nerd hell.”

Garrett smirks. Victory?

Varric says, “What’re you always telling us? It’s college. You’ve gotta try new things every once in a while. Step out of your comfort zone.”

“Ugh. I knew that’d come back to bite me in the ass.”

“I'd rather not think about Isabela's butt,” Anders says with a smirk. She punches him on the arm.  
\---

The first floor common room is surprisingly empty for once, Garrett thinks once they’ve all settled down. Someone is playing music from various Disney movies. Garrett isn’t sure where it’s coming from. All he knows is that it’s from _Aladdin._ He closes his eyes, listening to the faint melody.

“I meant to ask earlier, but I got a little distracted by the discovery of one of my internet idols,” Isabela says suddenly. Varric clears his throat. “Garrett.”

“Hm?”

“Did you ever figure anything out about our mysterious sexy-voiced stranger?”

And Garrett tells them. Isabela starts giggling.

“Ha!” Varric covers his exclamation with a series of coughs. “There’s no way it’s a coincidence. It must be fate.”

“This isn’t one of your porny stories, Varric.”

“It’s not porn. It’s smutty romance. Sheesh.” Varric stretches his legs out. “Was there anything else?”

“Hm… He did invite me to go say hi to him. At The Worx!.” 

Varric and Isabela exchange looks. 

“I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything. He probably thinks I’m just some loser freshman with no friends and he felt bad for me.”

Varric just says, “Hm.”

Isabela sighs. “I do wish you’d give yourself more credit.”

Anders has been silent for this entire conversation. He seems to be lost in thought. Garrett looks to him for help. He just shakes his head and mutters something under his breath.

Garrett gets to his feet. He doesn’t know why, but he suddenly feels tired. Really tired. “Sorry guys. It’s getting late.” He starts walking upstairs, calling over his shoulder, “Good night.”

As he nestles under the covers, he thinks, _Come on. He was just being nice. I’m overthinking this. Right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the need to inform you that The Holy Spirit of My Uncle's Cojones is a real book.  
> Thanks again for reading!  
> Thank you, boggszy and L.M., for your continuing support! I am not worthy... (crawls under desk)


	3. I'd Rather Not!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family drama is freakin' awesome. And by "awesome," I mean "terrible."

Garrett steps out of the car and pauses to take a long look at the house. His mother’s been taking good care of the garden. He hasn’t seen this much green in a long time. When he’d first left at the beginning of the semester, everything was bare and dying. To be fair, it had been the middle of winter.

The urge to roll around in the grass rises, but he settles for taking off his shoes and stepping onto the grass barefoot. It’s cold, but it feels amazing on his overheated feet. He sighs and closes his eyes. It’s quiet right now. His mother’s out, and the twins haven’t noticed that he’s home yet.

He’s still enjoying the feeling of soft grass between his toes when he hears a high-pitched squeal. He opens his eyes in time to see Bethany running toward him. Carver trails behind her with a sour look on his face. 

Then there’s Dog, who’s started barking his head off and charging at him. Oh crap.

Garrett freezes. Part of his brain is yelling at him to move, but his stupid legs aren’t cooperating. Now he knows how those damn squirrels feel when he’s about to run them over. “Dog, no, calm down—Oof!”

The next thing he knows, a massive overly affectionate mutt tackles him and he lands on his back. The impact knocks the wind out of him, and the back of his head hits the pavement. _Ow. That’s going to leave a lump._ Dog’s got him pinned down and is licking his face in long, loving slobbery kisses. Dog’s stub of a tail is wagging so hard, his butt is shaking. He’s too heavy to push off, and he’s still trying to breathe. There’s something amusing about the idea of getting loved half to death. At least it would be if it wasn’t happening to him.

Bethany, bless her heart, tries to help, but she’s laughing too hard. She grabs Dog around his massive shoulders, then he wriggles out of her grasp to keep smothering Garrett in doggy kisses. She grabs his hind legs to drag him off. He somehow manages to kick her hands away. After a few attempts, she gives up and sits on the ground, clutching her stomach as she keeps laughing.

Carver stands back with his arms crossed. He might be smiling, but Garrett isn’t too sure about that. It’s more likely that he’s rolling his eyes and grumbling as he watches his brother and sister wrestle with a bear-like dog. Finally, he seems to have had enough and grabs Dog and pulls him off of Garrett. Garrett rolls over, finally able to breathe, and starts laughing his ass off. Chances are he sounds and looks like an idiot, lying there in the grass with no shoes on. He should feel embarrassed but honestly, he’s glad to be home with his brother and sister.

The three Hawke siblings calm down around the same time. Bethany’s still giggling between gasps for air. Dog sits next to Bethany, panting and still looking pleased with himself. She gives him an affectionate pat on the head, and he lets out a rumble of joy. It makes him sound like a bear. _Maybe we should’ve named him Bear._

“Mom’s out getting groceries,” Carver says with a shrug. Dog starts running in circles around him, sometimes pausing to let out a high-pitched yip. He glares down at the dog. “Why does he do that? It’s weird. Garrett, your dog is weird.”

Garrett can only laugh at that. He’s been laughing so much already. His abs are getting sore. This whole family is weird. But it’s his family, and he’s okay with that. Bethany helps him up to his feet. 

“He’s not weird,” she says. Her lips twitch as she fights back a smile with little success. “He’s… eccentric. Quirky.”

Dog barks in what Garrett assumes to be agreement before resuming his panting. His tongue’s hanging out, and Garrett kind of wants to tease him with some bacon he stole from the dining hall. Nah, his mother would find out somehow and get mad. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”  
\---  
“So… How is school going?” Garrett asks while they’re sitting on the sofa watching TV. Dog sleeps at Garrett’s feet, his snores loud enough to vibrate the floor. 

Carver stiffens. His shoulders tense up to where it looks like they’re meeting his ears. Bethany starts fidgeting, pointedly looking away from her brothers. 

“Oh… It’s fine,” Bethany says. Her voice squeaks. 

Carver snorts. Sarcasm thickens his voice as he adds, “Yeah, it’s real great.”

“Carver!” Bethany hisses, but he keeps talking.

“I mean, there’s my friends giving me shit.” He keeps his gaze on the TV, his blue eyes cold. “But yeah, it’s great.”

Bethany clears her throat, looking down at her feet. There are bright spots of color on her cheeks, and her smile is tight. Forced. Garrett feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. 

“You’re not getting bullied, are you?” he says, his throat too tight. It’s like he’s breathing through a straw.

“No,” Bethany says, a little too quickly. Dog snorts in his sleep. His paws twitch a couple of times. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Carver snaps. He mutters something under his breath that sounds like, “Like you care.”

Bethany bites her lower lip.

Garrett’s almost ready to ask for more details, but his mother decides to arrive home at that moment with a call of, “I’m home!”

Everything erupts into chaos then. Dog starts barking, having been woken by the sound of the door. Bethany and Garrett both try to bring the dog under control. Garrett settles for grabbing Dog so his mother doesn’t get tackled.

“Oh, really, you three. What did I say about letting the dog in the house?” his mother says with a smile. Dog whimpers and puts on his best pitiful face in response. She clicks her tongue and lays the grocery bags on the ground to scratch him behind the ears. Then she hugs Garrett. “It’s good to see you, sweetling.”

He’s so much bigger than his mother, but hugging her makes him feel like he’s a little kid all over again, skinned knees and all. 

Maybe the weekend won’t be so bad after all. He’ll need to try and corner Carver at some point.  
\---  
Fenris is on his break, Garrett assumes, since he’s sitting at a table in the corner messing with his phone. It isn’t terribly busy here, not right now. Garrett wonders if he should go say hi. Would that be bugging him? Maybe he was being nice after all. Besides, it looks like he’s occupied with something. He wouldn’t want to be bothered by some nerdy-ass freshman with nothing better to do. 

He’s still debating when Fenris looks up. Suddenly the room feels way too hot. Garrett shuffles his feet, before deciding the hell with it, and approaches the elf. 

“D’you mind if I sit here?” Garrett says, cringing at how fast he’s talking.

The corners of Fenris’s mouth quirk. He gestures to the seat across from him. “Go right ahead. Make yourself comfortable.”

There’s a long stretch of silence between them. It isn’t uncomfortable, but Garrett feels awkward sitting there with a stupid look on his face. Meanwhile, Alistair is busy serving customer after customer. The occasional roar of the blender running breaks the silence.

“Are you all right?” Fenris asks, and Garrett is grateful for something to talk about.

“I’m fine. Got back from spending the weekend with my family a few minutes ago.”

Fenris makes a thoughtful noise. Garrett still can’t get over his voice. “Do you… not get along with them?”

“Huh? Oh! …Oh. I get along with them. It’s just… I guess it feels weird. I’m over here having a life of my own away from them. And they’re doing their thing over there.” He doesn’t want to think about what’s going on with his siblings. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. It’s probably a mess and resembles a bird nest more than anything else. “Sorry. I don’t mean to whine.”

“You’re not whining.” 

Garrett blinks. He’s trying not to stare at the elf, but he can’t help himself. 

“Would you like something to drink?” 

The change of subject leaves Garrett staring even more. He probably looks like a genius. He certainly feels like one. Fenris chuckles, ducking his head. His bangs cover his eyes. 

“If you’d like, I’ll see what Alistair feels like making while there’s no one here.” 

Garrett watches Fenris walks up to the counter and talk to Alistair in a low voice. He wonders what he’s saying. And for that matter, what is Alistair making? He can’t see from this angle, and he doesn’t think it’s something the employees here would share. 

He frowns, looking back down at his hands.

 _”Garrett, you’re not going to get anywhere in life if you don’t figure out what you want,”_ his mom had said. _”I’m not saying you need to magically know what you’re going to do with yourself and your future. It’s… What do you want? You need to keep that in mind. Otherwise…”_ She’d looked at the photo of the entire Hawke family, taken a few months after the twins were born. “ _Well, you’re not going to have anything.”_

The roar of the blender running pulls him out of his thoughts. He’s been wringing a napkin all this time, and it’s thoroughly tattered. With a sigh, he gets up to throw it away. When he gets back to the table, Fenris slides his drink in front of him with a flash of a smile. Garrett sees that the tattoos trace lines along the back of his hands. How much of him is tattooed? Would that be inappropriate to ask? Yeah, probably.

“Thanks,” Garrett says, looking at his cup. “What is it?”

“Blended mocha.” Fenris smirks and rolls his eyes. “Though I suppose I ought to call it a mocha freezie.” He bites his lower lip, and Garrett tries not to stare. “I should’ve asked if you even wanted coffee.”

“No, it’s fine!” Garrett blurts. “I love coffee.” _Really, self?_ “Thanks.” _I’m a freaking idiot._

The corners of Fenris’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Then I’m glad.” He runs a hand through his hair. “You just… seemed like you needed something.”

“Er, yeah. Something.” _What the hell, Garrett?_ He clears his throat. “Chocolate’s always great.” He takes a sip and fights back a grimace. _Coffee flavor!_ “I like sweet things.”

Fenris’s eyes widen for a second before he chuckles, ducking his head again. The tips of his ears are a little red. Is he feeling hot or something? Garrett isn’t too surprised. The room is pretty warm, and that long-sleeved shirt can’t be helping. Come to think of it…

“So… I noticed you’re the only one here with long sleeves. Why is that?”

Fenris goes silent. He shifts in his seat and fidgets. Coughs. “I get cold easily?”

 _Crap. I made him uncomfortable. Good job._ “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, not that there’s anything wrong with you wearing that. I mean, you still look great.”

Fenris’s eyes go even wider, if possible, and he rubs at his reddening cheeks. He chuckles, like he’s feeling self-conscious.

“Geez. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Argh. Everyone’s always telling me I say stupid things, and here I am, making an ass out of myself.” Garrett scratches his beard. 

Fenris covers his mouth to muffle a snicker. His nose wrinkles when he laughs. When he recovers, he shakes his head at Garrett, his eyes bright. “Try not to worry about it too much. It’s fine. You’re fine.”

Now it’s Garrett’s turn to blush. _Holy crap. What is wrong with me?_ He’s also become aware of a high-pitched whining noise. It’s coming from somewhere behind the counter.

“Ah.” Fenris looks up. “I think my break is over. Alistair’s making strange noises again.” He hesitates. “It was nice talking to you, Hawke.” He does that small, quick smile again. He glances at Garrett’s cup and blinks. Then he shakes his head and puts on a black hat. Part of the uniform?

“About time!” Alistair says loudly. “There’s a group coming in soon and one of the blenders just broke. Again.” He waves a hand at his hair, which is now covered in what appears to be strawberry syrup. He shoots Garrett an apologetic smile. 

“That’s why you should wear a hat,” Fenris says.

 _Well, this seems like a good time to head out._ He can’t help but take one last quick look at how Fenris is doing on his way out. 

He seems calm once he’s behind the counter. It’s hard to read his expression. It’s like he’s completely focused on what he’s doing. He works the espresso machine and almost seems to be dancing behind the counter as he darts around making drinks.  
\---  
It’s Tuesday, the dreaded day of the club showcase. Tables line the quad from one end to the other. 

Garrett avoids eye contact as he passes a series of fraternities. He doesn’t want to remember that awful night. 

He’s looking for the GSA table in particular. Where is it, and what would it look like? Rainbows and glitter everywhere? That… would be a little much. He’s not sure if he really wants to be involved with that. But he said he’d do it… _Damn my need to be helpful._

“Garrett!” Isabela practically screeches, waving her arms and bouncing up and down. One of the frat boys stares at her, specifically her boobs, and she stops bouncing to give him a damn good evil eye. He seems to shrink back and hide behind a sign with a picture of the school mascot, a bulldog. She mutters as Garrett gets within earshot, “Creep.” Then she brightens and gives Garrett a back-popping hug. “Look at you, braving the world outside your dorm and being social!”

There’s a shorter elf girl with black hair hanging around the table, smiling like the sun. She has green ribbons in her hair that match her eyes. Garrett’s eyes are drawn to the swirling markings on her forehead and cheeks. 

“Check it out!” Isabela says, letting go of Garrett. “I snagged us a table in front of The Hanged Man! How cool is that?”

“Pretty cool.” He looks through the windows of the cafe. He thinks he sees Fenris wiping down tables. Quickly turning his attention back to the table, he says, “This is a pretty nice setup.”

It really is. There are brochures and pamphlets on all sorts of topics, from coming out to family to self-care. Someone’s baked rainbow cookies, which Garret finds kind of funny. He wonders if Varric made them, but nah, they’d be burned if he did.

“Hi,” the elf girl says. Her voice reminds Garrett of a bird. “Feel free to take a cookie. I baked them myself last night. I’m Merrill, by the way. And you must be Garrett. Isabela’s told me a lot about you.”

“All good things, I assure you,” Isabela says with a giggle and a wink. She tosses him a shirt, which he nearly drops, before he can ask any questions. “Here, put this on.”

“Out here, in front of everyone?” He swears the fraternity next to them is glowering at him. It’s intimidating as hell, and he’s trying to be brave. It helps that his friends are here. 

Isabela nudges Garrett with her elbow. “Ignore them. I’m sure you’re fine.” She drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and adds, “I bet Fenris thinks you’re fine.”

Garrett groans loudly and pulls off his shirt. Someone wolf-whistles, and his whole face starts burning. Thankfully, the shirt fits perfectly. He’d rather not have people staring at his pudgy, hairy belly. “There, happy now?”

“Ooh, yes,” she says with a happy sigh. Merrill giggles. 

Garrett raises an eyebrow. “So where’s Varric and Anders?”

“Varric is right behind you,” says a voice behind him.

He turns around and chuckles nervously. Sure enough, there’s Varric, who’s also wearing a shirt to get in the club spirit. His arms are crossed.

“Blondie’s getting drinks.” Varric rubs his forehead. “He brought Karl along.” He motions for Garrett to lean down. Dwarves. They’re so short. “Don’t know if you noticed, but the elf was checking you out.”

Garrett glances at Merrill, who’s waving at passersby and getting them to at least take a cookie.

“Wrong elf, smart guy.”

Garrett frowns. “I’m sure he wasn’t ‘checking me out,’ Varric.” 

Varric sighs loudly and waves his hands to fan the air. “Fine, fine. Be that way.”

“I will. I’m here to help out, not worry about my nonexistent love life.” He grabs a stack of pamphlets and tries to hand it out to a red-haired girl. She raises an eyebrow at him, takes a cookie, and walks away. Dammit.

“Oh, I don’t know about ‘nonexistent,’ Garrett,” Isabela says. “He keeps looking over here. There’s got to be something there. A spark, if you will.”

“And sparks turn into flames,” Varric adds with a wink. 

_For crap’s sake._

“Ooh, I do like flames. What’re we talking about?” Merrill says, practically dancing as she twirls around. Garrett wonders if she might be into ballet.

“I’ll tell you later, kitten,” Isabela says. She pats Merrill’s arm.

Before Garrett can protest, Varric suddenly takes off into The Worx! At the same time, Karl and Anders exit with two trays of drinks. They nearly run into each other, and an especially large cup leans dangerously to one side. Luckily, Karl catches it before it falls over and spills everywhere.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Anders says. “Help yourselves.”

“I love my discount,” Karl says with a calm sort of smile. Then he leans over and kisses Anders on the cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to get you anything, Hawke.” 

Garrett shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

“So what was going on with Varric? He almost ran us over.” Anders frowns as he peers through the window. He mutters something under his breath.

“No idea,” Garrett says. Merrill’s still handing cookies out. How do they still have so many cookies? How many did she bake?

Then Garrett hears yelling. The fraternity next to them has gotten into an argument with some kind of animal rights activist group. Nobody knows who started it, and honestly, it doesn’t really matter.  
Isabela says something about grabbing popcorn and pulls up a chair to watch. Both sides yell insults, and at some point, someone throws a hot dog.

Garrett has no idea where the hot dog came from. But everything goes downhill from there. Anders shakes his head.

“Really? These people represent our school. Surely they have something better to do,” he says. Karl glances back and forth between the two groups and starts moving in their general direction. “What is he doing?”

Karl steps between them, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. He says a few words. Garrett isn’t sure what, he’s speaking that softly. Everyone involved drops what they’re doing and slinks away. A few of the people on both sides make obscene gestures, but grudgingly go back to their table.

“Anders,” Garrett says in disbelief. “I think you may be dating Jesus.”

“He has that effect on people.”

“How did he…?”

Anders shrugs. “Magic?”

Varric picks that moment to sneak up behind Garrett. “Did that just happen?”

“It sure did.” Anders sounds genuinely proud. Karl smiles.

“Really, I didn’t do anything special. I only calmed them down before anyone got hurt.” Then Karl’s smile turns mischievous. “That, and I reminded them that I handle their food.”

“Nice. Never piss off the man who touches your food.” Varric nudges Garrett. “So, Hawke. I invited Fenris along to D and D.”

“Oh.” Garrett doesn’t know what else to say to that. “Okay.”

“That’s all you have to say?” He throws his hands up in the air.

“I can’t believe you invited that… individual,” Anders says. His face looks like he smelled something unpleasant. 

“Yes, so that means the both of you will need to learn to behave yourselves.” Varric waggles his finger. “Got it?”

Anders groans. “I’ll try. I can’t promise more than that.” He looks at Garrett out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll do it for Hawke.”

“Wait, what?” Garrett says. Now he’s lost. He missed something. He has to have missed something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continuing support, everyone!


	4. We've Only Just Begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tea, awkward hugs, and nerd hell.

Garrett stares in dismay at the sheet of paper in front of him. Worry gnaws at his guts, and he chews on his lower lip. His teeth pull out a fair stray beard hairs, and he winces. Ow, that stings. The sheet continues to taunt him. In desperation, he turns to Anders and Karl. Thankfully, they’re not getting frisky. Not yet, anyway.

“Andeeeeers,” he whines.

“Whaaaat?” Anders takes off his glasses and rubs his temples. “I’m still working on my character sheet.”

“Could you look at mine?”

Karl snorts, quickly covering the sound with a cough. 

“I feel like my character’s OP,” Garrett continues. He waves the sheet in question.

“Hawke, you’re playing a druid. Of course your character’s overpowered.” Anders drums his fingers on his desk. Karl hums in agreement, not looking up from his textbook. 

“Okay, then how do I fix it?”

Anders growls. He turns around to say something, but Karl holds up a hand, cutting him off before he can even start. Anders freezes in place and raises an eyebrow.

Karl sighs and puts his book down. He pinches the bridge of his nose. Garrett thinks he may be getting a little annoyed, not that he blames him. He’s been going on like this all day. “Garrett, I think you’re worrying too much. Just have fun with your character.”

“But—”

“I seriously doubt anyone will mind. Your group seems like they’re a pretty cool bunch.” He glances pointedly down at his book. “I will, however, mind if you continue to interrupt my studying.”

Garrett blushes. Maybe he has been getting carried away. But it feels like it’s important that he doesn’t upset anyone. Especially if Fenris is going to be there… He stops that thought dead in its tracks. “Sorry.”

“Quite all right.” He smiles, and Garrett’s shoulders magically relax themselves. “It seems like it’s important to you. After all, you do have an elf to impress.”

“Oh my god. Why does everyone think I have a crush on him?” _Aside from the whole thinking he’s attractive thing. Am I that obvious?_ He glares at his character sheet. Somehow it’s its fault. Somehow.

“Uh, because it’s obvious?” Anders says, butting in. 

Karl gives him a look before saying, “Garrett, there’s nothing wrong with liking another man.”

“Oh my _god._ I know that. I’ve known that since middle school. Can we please talk about something else now?”

“Oh.” Karl clears his throat. “I see.”

Garrett sighs and tucks the sheet into a random folder. “Screw it. I’m just gonna roll with it. What do you think of a male halfling druid named Sparky?”

Anders chuckles. “Not bad. I’m a human cleric.” He combs his fingers through his hair, somehow making it look messier than ever. “Someone’s got to make sure the party doesn’t die horribly. What are the others doing?”

“I don’t know. I think Isabela said something about wanting to be a slutty catgirl.”

Anders makes a disgusted noise, and Karl starts laughing. “I doubt she’s serious about that. She’s got an elf of her own to impress.”

Anders and Garrett stare. Garrett says, “What? Who?’

“Sorry, Garrett, it isn’t my place to tell.”

“Aw, that isn’t fair.”

Karl shrugs. “I am sworn to secrecy.”

Garrett pulls out his PreCalc notes. There’s a quiz on Monday. _Ugh, quizzes. The bane of my existence._ After debating for a few seconds, he sighs and puts away his notebook. He gets up and slips on his favorite red hoodie.

“Heading out?” Anders asks with a tilt of his head.

“Um… Yeah… I’m heading to The Worx! I need to clear my head a little, get some air.”

Anders snorts. “You just want to see the elf.” His lip curls, and he looks like he’s going to say something rude. Karl rests his hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze, distracting him. 

“No!” Garrett says, blushing. He coughs and admits, “Maybe.”

Anders raises an eyebrow and lowers his glasses, looking like a disapproving librarian.

“Fine. Yes. But only because I want to be his friend.”

Anders’s disapproving librarian look intensifies. 

Karl sighs and pulls Anders into a hug before saying, “Have fun, then.”

As he’s heading out, he thinks, _Good grief. What is with those two? It’s going to make Game Night interesting. Though… Is it the good interesting or “oh God oh God we’re all gonna die?”_

\---

Garrett tries not to choke. He has no idea why he insists on trying to make himself like coffee. He hopes he isn’t making an embarrassing face. At least he’s doing a better job of concealing his disgust. He’s been forcing himself to have a small coffee all week. 

He makes eye contact with Fenris, who’s wiping down the counters, and tries not to be too obvious about his staring. It’s five minutes until closing, and the elf looks exhausted. He’s probably not in the mood for chatting. _Maybe I should leave._

Fenris offers a hesitant, barely noticeable smile. He glances back at Alistair, who’s wrapping the syrup bottles and singing Queen songs off-key. “I’m off in fifteen minutes, if you care to wait that long,” he says. 

Garrett blinks and his heart does a nervous flutter. He squashes that feeling down before he can do something stupid. 

“Sure,” he says, hoping he doesn’t come off like a lost puppy.

Then Alistair starts Bohemian Rhapsody. Garrett laughs before he joins in. It’s Bohemian Rhapsody. He has to. 

Fenris sighs. “Hawke. Please don’t encourage him.”

Alistair winks at him before singing louder than before. 

Fenris groans and mutters, “I’m going to count out now. You’re both ridiculous.”

\---

“So is work always like that?” Garrett asks as they walk in the chill night air. 

“Only during closing.” Fenris shivers and rubs his arms. “Ah. We should turn this way if we want to go to my dorm. If… Is that all right?”

Garrett blinks. He’s still surprised that Fenris wants to hang out with him. “Sure. It’d be a nice change from being stuck in a room with my roommate and his boyfriend.”

Fenris chuckles. “I imagine that must be a lot of fun.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s great. Anders gets all kinds of mushy with Karl, and it is cute and all, but… One time I had to leave.” He clears his throat. “Well, more than once.”

“Ah. I see.” Fenris’s nose wrinkles. “Anders is… quite the character.” Judging from his tone, he was planning on saying something considerably less polite.

Garrett has the feeling there’s more to it than that. “What’s going on between you two?”

“We clash. A lot.” Fenris sneezes. He sniffles, pulls out a handkerchief, and wipes his nose. “It’s nothing, really.”

Garrett isn’t convinced, but right now doesn’t seem like the best time to ask. Besides, it’s cold out here. So he grunts and feels like the world’s best listener.

“We’re almost there, by the way. I’m on the first floor.”

“Oh, that’s neat. No climbing up and down the stairs.”

Fenris shrugs. “It’s a mixed blessing,” he says as he pulls his ID card from his back pocket and unlocks the door. They’re going down the hall and he waves at a ginger-haired lady.

“Fenris,” she says with a bow of her head. She sees Garrett then and she smiles. “Oh. You’re in my nutrition class. I’m sorry, I’m not good with names.”

“Uh, Garrett.” He holds out his (sweaty) hand and they shake. He needs to learn to pay attention to his classmates better, he decides. “It’s okay, I’m no good with names, either.”

“I’m Aveline.” She inclines her head. “I’m also the RA on duty for tonight.” She sighs. “And I’m already getting noise complaints. This is going to be a long night.” 

“Care to come in for tea first, then?” Fenris offers. 

She shakes her head. “I’ll pass. Stay safe, you two.”

“I’m always safe, Aveline.” 

She huffs out a short little laugh before going down the hall.

“She seems… nice,” Garrett says as he takes a seat at the card table in the kitchenette. Damn, the suites are nice. He hopes to get a spot here next year.

“Oh, Aveline? She can be. Tea?” Fenris starts warming the kettle on the stove. 

“Sure.” Garrett can handle tea, at least. It’ll be great after being out in the cold.

“I only have peppermint. Is that all right?” Fenris sneezes again just as he finishes his sentence. When Garrett gives him a concerned look, he shakes his head. “I’m fine. It’s only allergies.”

“Allergies are the worst. Are you okay?” He’s standing before he can stop himself. He reaches out to brush Fenris’s bangs back. They’re almost in his eyes; how can he stand it?

Fenris pulls back with a nervous chuckle. His cheeks are a light pink. “I’m fine, Hawke. Really.”

Oh. Personal space. Garrett rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” He’s already recovered, though his smile is a little tight. It doesn’t reach his eyes. 

Garrett kicks himself mentally. “So… You’re a student.” _Gods damn it, Garrett._

“Er, yes?” Fenris raises an eyebrow. 

“Sorry. I guess I’m trying to ask about what you do here. You know, things like your major. The usual questions.” 

The water’s starting to boil. Fenris glances at the kettle before answering. “I’m a sophomore. I had a bit of a late start due to life-related things.”

“Life-related things?”

Fenris frowns. “It’s complicated.” He looks up at Garrett, who takes a moment to remember how to breathe. “What about you?”

“Me? I’m not interesting at all.”

“Neither am I. I’m just curious.” Fenris tilts his head. The kettle starts whistling then. “Sugar in your tea?”

Garrett shakes his head, not sure what to say. That seems to be a running theme here. Jesus Christ. Fenris pours two cups and sets them on the table. Garrett has to shake himself. He feels like he’s being creepy, staring at the elf. He sits back at the table and stares at the cups. His cup has Lilo and Stitch on it. Fenris’s, oddly enough, has Winnie the Pooh.

Fenris clears his throat. “They were on sale.”

Garrett feels his lips twitch as he tries not to smile at that. That’s… really cute. “So you’re a closet Disney fan. Who isn’t?”

Fenris chuckles, covering his smile with his hand. “Mind waiting here for a minute or so while I get changed?”

Garrett shrugs. _Play it cool, self._ “It’s your room.” _Your nice room, you lucky bastard._ He kind of wants to get a peek at the bedroom and stops that train of thought. _Bad Garrett._

Fenris smirks before going into his room and closing the door behind him. Garrett looks around while he waits for the tea to cool. 

A few dishes sit in the sink. Cobwebs line the corners of the room. His mother would be personally offended by that. He sighs. There’s also a large canvas, around Garrett’s height, leaning against the wall. He briefly debates taking a peek at it before deciding that it would be rude. He settles for staring at his cup of tea. 

Just as he’s about to take a sip of tea and burn his tongue, Fenris steps out in a simple pair of sweats and Three Wolf Moon shirt. Garrett quickly puts the cup back down. He tries not to fidget. 

“You didn’t answer my question, by the way,” Fenris says after he takes a small sip of tea. 

“What question?”

“The usual questions, as you put it.” He smiles down at his cup, running his finger along the rim. 

“Oh, that. Um.” Garrett licks his lips. “I’m a freshman, just started last semester. No idea what I want to major in. I mean, I’m not good at anything, so…”

“Don’t say that,” Fenris says sharply. He blinks and takes another sip of tea. “Everyone’s good at something. You just need some time to find it.”

Garrett huffs. “Yeah? What if I don’t?” He crosses his arms, hating how he’s feeling like a little kid over this. 

“You will. Just give it time.” He softens his tone and his expression. “Trust me.”

Garrett takes a gulp, trying to buy himself time to hide his reaction to Fenris. He’s being so stupid right now, he’s annoying himself. His phone buzzes in his pocket, saving him from having to respond. 

Anders: _Stay away tonight. Sorry. Ended up sick with something._

Ugh. Garrett: _Okay. Karl’s taking care of you?_

Anders: _Yes, mother. :P_

_Guess I’m crashing at Varric’s tonight,_ Garrett thinks before sending a quick text to Varric explaining the situation. 

“Is everything all right?” Fenris asks. 

“Yeah. Turns out I’m crashing at Varric’s place.” Garrett shrugs. “Either Anders really is sick, or he and Karl are having a good time.”

Fenris makes a face. “I see. Shall I walk you over there after we finish our tea?”

“You don’t have to,” Garrett says, cheeks burning. He starts turning the cup in his hands. 

“Of course I do. Aveline would have my head if she knew I let someone walk out after dark on their own.”

“Well… All right.” Garrett takes another gulp of tea. He has to remind himself to slow down.

\---

The walk to Varric’s dorm is comfortable. Still chilly, but Garrett finds himself relaxing around Fenris as time goes on. They start chatting about random things. It turns out that he’s taking twenty units, which blows Garrett’s mind.

“I can barely manage twelve!” 

“It takes time management,” Fenris says with a shrug. “You’ll get the hang of it in time.”

“I don’t know. I don’t handle stress that well.”

Fenris stops walking long enough to give him a puzzled look. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, Hawke.” 

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do. You need more confidence.” He smirks. “I know, it’s easier said than done.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” He frowns as he studies Fenris. “How do you do it?”

Fenris snorts. “I fake it.”

“You’re really good at faking, then.”

“Perhaps. So I suppose I should be telling you to pretend to be confident. It’ll come to you in time.” 

“Ugh.” Garrett rubs the back of his neck. “Patience. I’m really bad at that. At least, that’s what my mom tells me.” He pauses in mid-rub. “Say, I don’t recall you ever talking about your parents…”

“I haven’t talked to my family in a long time,” Fenris says. He runs a hand through his hair. At Garrett’s questioning look, he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. You said you’re close to your family?”

“Uh, yeah. Got a brother and sister, both younger than me. They’re twins. Bethany’s such a sweetheart. And Carver is… Well, he’s Carver.” Garrett laughs. 

Fenris hums. “He’s a handful, I take it?”

“Yeah, kind of!” Garrett sends a text to let Varric know that they’re right outside. He clears his throat. “Thanks for having me over. I had a good time.”

“No problem. Thank you for coming over. I… don’t really have people over that often.” Fenris shuffles his feet before looking up at Garrett. In the low light, his eyes look like they're glowing. “Sorry I couldn’t be more entertaining, though.”

Garrett shakes his head. “Oh, I don’t know. The Disney cups were pretty entertaining.”

That gets a soft laugh out of Fenris. “Just… don’t read too much into it.”

“I won’t tell anyone. Wouldn’t want to ruin your image, after all.” Garrett winks. Where is this coming from? 

Fenris covers up a snort, badly at that. “I appreciate your consideration.”

Varric chooses that moment to swing the door open. “Hawke! Come on in! Fenris, long time, no see.”

“Hello Varric.” Fenris’s tone is nowhere near as warm as it had been a few seconds ago, like he’s back in professional mode. He crosses his arms. 

Varric glances between Garrett and Fenris before sighing and starting to walk inside. “Well, it ain’t warm out here. Come in whenever you feel like it.” 

Garrett props the door open with his foot. He scratches his beard and chuckles. “Well, I guess I should get going.”

“So it seems.” Fenris looks back down at the floor, biting his lip. He seems to arrive at a decision. “Can I try something? If it’s all right with you?”

“Sure, what—”

Then Fenris wraps his arms around Garrett in a hug. Garrett has the feeling he isn't used to hugs. Something about his face being somewhere around Garrett's armpit. It’s over quickly, before Garrett can process what happened. Fenris steps back, biting his lower lip again. 

“I, uh… Sorry. I should… Good night, Hawke.” Fenris walks away, back and shoulders stiff. 

Garrett watches him leave, still not really sure what happened. All he knows is that his heart is pounding way too hard, and his face feels way too hot. “Good night, then…?”

Varric’s smiling smugly when Garrett goes in and settles down for the night. “So what was that all about?”

Garrett’s staring up at the ceiling. Varric had offered to let him have the bed, but Garrett wants to sleep on the floor. “Um… I’m not sure.”

“Okay?” 

“He hugged me.” _And it felt nice._

“He hugged you,” Varric repeats slowly. 

“Yup. Good night, Varric.” He throws the blanket over himself and rolls over. He still needs time to figure out what that was all about. 

“Hang on, hang on… You can’t just drop that on me and not give me the details.” There’s some shuffling noises. Varric must be looking for a notebook for his _friendfiction._

“That… That’s it. Seriously.”

Varric groans. “And I thought _you_ were hopeless.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re both hopeless. Both of you. You and Broody.”

“Varric…” Garrett growls. 

“Nah, I’m gonna give you time to figure this shit out. It wouldn’t make for a good story otherwise.”

Garrett huffs. He’s sure there’s nothing going on. He ignores the warmth spreading through his chest, the nervous fluttery feeling in his stomach… He can’t ruin this friendship. He refuses to.

\---

At long last, the day of the session. Everyone’s sitting around the biggest table in the student center. Isabela is texting away on her phone while Merrill peeks over her shoulder, big eyes wide in interest. Anders is glaring at Fenris, though he’s at least putting in some effort to keep his expression neutral. He isn’t succeeding very well, but at least he’s trying. And Varric? He’s just sitting back, amused by the entire thing. Garrett has no idea how their DM is going to manage everyone here. He’s not sure if he’d be able to handle it.

“Ah, there she is,” Varric says, getting to his feet. “Everyone, say hello to Leliana.”

Garrett at least waves politely. She smiles, and it’s like a breath of fresh air. 

“Sorry I’m late, everyone.” She has a slight French accent. “A really big something came up. I’m sorry.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Varric’s smile disappears. 

She tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Umm… It’s a little personal. Suffice to say, I’m going to have to cancel. Indefinitely. Sorry again. I know it can be a pain for newbies to get a character going, and I already put so much time into setting this up…”

Anders starts grumbling until Isabela gives him a look. 

“Don’t worry about it, kitten. Shit happens.”

“Thanks for understanding, everyone.” 

Leliana leaves, not before continuing to apologize profusely. A hush falls over the table. 

Anders says, “Well, now what?”

Merrill says, “We could always just make something up.”

“Make something up? Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Merrill looks thoughtful. “Garrett, what do you think?”

_Why are you asking me?_ “Um…”

“There’s an idea,” Varric says. Garrett can’t get a read on his expression, which is definitely worrying. “Hawke, why don’t you DM?”

_What?_

“That’s a fantastic idea,” Isabela says. She throws an arm around Merrill’s shoulders. “Don’t you think so, Merrill?” Merrill giggles, her ears and cheeks turning pink. 

“Wait, why me?”

Anders seems to feel the need to add his two cents. “It would be a shame to let all that preparation go to waste.”

“It’s okay, Hawke. We have faith in you.” Varric sounds like he’s trying to hold back a laugh. 

_Aw, hell._ Garrett’s stomach does a nervous flip. “I don’t know… I’ve never done this before.”

Fenris speaks up then. “It’ll be fine, Hawke.” He traces a finger along the table. He sneezes again, frowns, and rubs his nose. “Just do your best.”

“I… Oh all right.” He still isn’t sure why Varric isn’t volunteering. “Let’s just make this an RP session, then.”

“Hell yeah!” Isabela still hasn’t taken her arm off Merrill, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “Okay, I’m getting drunk in the tavern.”

“Uh… Sure.” Garrett looks around the table. He’s feeling more than a little uncomfortable with all those eyes staring at him. “So, welcome to the sleepy town of Riverwood.”

“Riverwood?” Anders sounds like he’s about to start criticizing, but Fenris shoots him a glare. He glares right back. 

“Yeah, Riverwood. Gimme a break.” Garrett grins, resisting the urge to start laughing. “Here you’ll find a blacksmith, a tavern, and an inn, not much else, though.”

Then he turns the party loose and lets them start acting out their characters. 

“So, what’s everyone doing?” Garrett asks.

“Of course I’m in the tavern. Gotta have my ale like any self-respecting dwarf,” Varric says. “Or is it mead?”

“Ooh, me too!” Isabela says, waving her arms. Merrill ducks so she doesn’t accidentally get hit. “I’m gonna go up to the dwarf and talk to him.”

“Okay. The rest of you are at the tavern, too?” When he gets positive responses, he thinks. “All right. So here’s the scene: You’re all traveling through Riverwood when a storm hits. The tavern is nice and safe, and the food isn’t terrible.”

“That’s always promising.” Varric leans back in his chair. 

“You hear rumors as you eavesdrop on conversations. Talk of rebellion and a coming civil war. The undead rise from their graves. It’s becoming more dangerous to travel alone.” Garrett pauses to take a sip of his Coke. 

“Ooh, spooky,” Merrill says, her eyes wide. 

Fenris and Anders are silent as they listen intently. Garrett tries not to squirm under Anders’s intense gaze. Fenris is looking down at the table.

“There’s also a rumor that the shop just down the road had a few things stolen. Bandits are a frequent problem in the area.”

“Damn them,” Anders says. “I’m going to ask the owner of that shop a few questions once that storm clears up.”

“Awesome. So, here’s what’s going on while you’re at the tavern…”

Maybe this isn’t going to be so bad after all. Garrett’s phone buzzes a couple of times during the session, but he figures he can check his messages after this is all done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support and patience!   
> Updates are probably gonna slow down a bit over the next few weeks. Semester's starting up, and the first few weeks of the fall semester in particular are always hell at work. D:


	5. I Didn't Sign Up For This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The continuing saga of Carver drama. Featuring: Kittens!

“Hawke.”

Garrett twitches at the sound of Fenris’s voice. He scolds himself. There’s no need to be so jumpy. It's only Fenris. He casts a quick glance around. Everyone else is putting their things away.

“May I speak to you for a moment?” Fenris fidgets with one of his sleeves.

Isabela’s expression lights up, and she shares a knowing look with Varric. Garrett resists the sudden urge to roll his eyes. It’s better to ignore them. They just want a reaction out of him… Right? 

“Uh, sure?” As they’re walking out of earshot from the others, he gives Isabela a look. He hopes it says, _Behave yourself!_

When they’ve gotten a decent distance away from the group, Fenris clears his throat. “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable last night.”

Garrett just looks at him. What is he talking about? “Huh?”

“The, uh…” Fenris scratches one of his blushing cheeks. “The hug. If I overstepped my boundaries, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t. I mean, I was surprised and all, but it felt… nice.” Now Garrett feels like he’s blushing.

“Oh,” Fenris says in a small voice. He looks down at his feet.

“Really, it’s fine. I like hugs. They’re nice and friendly.” He closes his mouth before he can continue sounding like an idiot.

Fenris crosses his arms. “I suppose they are.” He bites his lower lip. “Well, I… just wanted to clear that up. Thank you, Hawke. I should go.” He blinks at the rest of the group before shaking his head and walking away.

Garrett watches the elf, wondering what in the world that entire conversation was about. Isabela sneaks up behind Garrett and smacks him on the butt. He yelps and jumps up, and Isabela snickers. 

“Sorry, Hawke. Couldn’t resist,” she says, still smirking. “So what was that all about?”

He glares at her, rubbing his butt. It didn’t really hurt. “He apologized for the hug. Said he felt like he crossed a line and made me uncomfortable.”

“And then what?”

“That’s it.” 

She groans. “Ugh, fine.”

“You still think I should ask him out.”

“Duh.”

“Uh… Huh.” Not this nonsense again. “He’s not interested in me. Not like that.” 

“Did you see the way he was looking at you the whole session?” Merrill says. She nuzzles Isabela’s shoulder. “He kept giving you these sad puppy eyes.”

“Puppy eyes?” Garrett tries to imagine it and now his head feels like it’s going to explode. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Ooh. Creators, no.” She giggles. “You should ask him out!”

“I just had this conversation with Isabela.” _They’re ganging up on me._

“Believe me, Kitten,” Isabela says, “we’ve all been pestering him about that.”

“Garrett,” Merrill says with a sigh. “It doesn’t have to be anything serious. Just, I don’t know, ask him to go see a movie. It’s casual and low-pressure.” She bounces on the balls of her feet. “That’s what Isabela did with me.”

“I see. Well…” He blinks. _Wait, what?_ “You two are dating? Since when?”

“About a week ago,” Isabela says. She kisses Merrill on her forehead. 

Garrett looks to Anders and Varric for an explanation. Anders just shrugs. 

“Don’t ask me.”

\---

Garrett’s about to open the door to their room when Anders grabs his shoulder. He jerks.

“What?” Garrett isn’t really in the mood for any more nonsense. 

“Th-there’s a mess. It’s terrible. Karl and I got a little wild last night.” Anders clears his throat. At least he has the decency to blush.

“I could’ve gone without knowing that.” He rubs his forehead. “Please tell me that whatever you did never wandered to my side of the room. Or my bed.”

“I can make no such promises.” 

“Oh my god, Anders.” Bracing himself, Garrett swings the door open. He squeezes his eyes shut. Hopefully it’ll give Karl enough time to put some pants on or hide. “I need a shower…”

He darts into the bathroom. 

The warm water feels amazing on his stiff back and shoulders. He sighs. While he’s washing his hair, his mind wanders back to that hug. He remembers the way Fenris’s body felt pressed against his. His hair had smelled of coffee grounds and soap. He wonders how it would feel to run his fingers through that soft-looking white hair. How would it feel to kiss him?

He stops himself before those thoughts can go much further. He rinses the shampoo out of his hair, trying not to think about Fenris moaning his name. 

“Damn,” he mutters under his breath. He’s hard. How to take care of it? On the one hand, he could just… take care of it. On the other hand, Anders is still here. It would be weird taking care of himself with him just on the other side of the wall. _Screw it._ With a sigh, he flips the water to cold and chokes back a yelp.  
_What is wrong with me?_

\---

“Please tell me you’re decent,” he says as he steps out of the bathroom. Then he freezes. There’s a giant lump of fur on his bed. “Anders… What the hell is on my bed?”

“Um…” Anders tries to look innocent. He’s failing miserably, mostly because of the smile threatening to poke through. “I don’t know?”

The lump of fur stirs and a black kitten uncurls itself from the pile. _Three kittens. All staring at me._ He stares right back at the kittens. “Are those kittens on my bed?”

“They might be.”

“Anders. Why are kittens on my bed?”

“I found them in a box just outside the dining commons.” Anders groans loudly. “I couldn’t just _leave_ them there! They were all alone and cold and they have nowhere else to go.” He gives Garrett a pleading look. 

“We can’t keep pets in the dorms!” Garrett’s throat starts to feel itchy. “And I’m allergic to cats.”

“It’s only for a little bit. I need to at least find them a good home.” Anders’s eyes tear up, which surprises Garrett. “I’ll get you something for your allergies. I just…” His voice breaks. “They don’t deserve to be abandoned.” He takes off his glasses and wipes his eyes. 

Garrett sighs. One of the kittens squeaks and toddles to the edge of the bed. It makes eye contact with Garrett and squeaks again. He stares it down before scooping it up. It wriggles in his hand that’s probably going to be itching later. “What’s this one’s name?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Anders’s voice is soft. “The other two are Ser Pounce-a-Lot and Mr. Wiggums.”

“You’re joking.”

“A noble beast deserves a noble name.”

He holds the kitten up to eye level. It mews and paws his nose. Its tiny claws prickle. “I’m sure one of us will think of something.”

Anders lights up. “So we can keep them?”

“Oh, why not? I can deal with itching and sneezing for a while.” Garrett lets the kitten rest on his shoulder. It starts purring in his ear. “Just until we can find them a good home, though.” It’s hard to sound stern when there’s a warm little body on his shoulder. 

Anders throws his arms around Garrett in a short hug. “You’re the best, Garrett.” 

The kitten lets out what was probably meant to be a ferocious roar before jumping onto Anders’s shoulder. He scratches its ears. When he sits on his bed, the kitten crawls onto his pillow and starts kneading it. 

“Try to at least keep them off my bed,” Garrett says, shooting the other two kittens a warning look. They blink at him, not at all concerned.

“I can try. But they’re cats. They do what they feel like doing.”

Garrett sits on the edge of his bed. His nose is starting to tickle. Before he can stop himself, he sneezes loudly. The kittens jump off the bed, tails puffed out. He sniffles. “Great. This is why I like dogs.”

“Dogs don’t nibble on your toes when you’re trying to work on essays.” Anders inclines his head toward Garrett’s phone. “You got a text or something, by the way.” His mission apparently complete, he opens up a book and starts reading. 

With a sigh, Garrett picks up his phone and checks his messages.

Bethany: _mom didnt want me to tell u but carver got suspended_

“Oh crap,” he says. His stomach drops, and he leans against his desk. His fingers shake, so he’s having a hard time texting back. 

Garrett: _What happened?_

He’s going to have to wait for an answer. He’s afraid to call. Bethany wouldn’t pick up anyway. She’s terrible at returning calls. And now he’s feeling antsy. He gets up and starts pacing.

“What’s wrong?” Anders asks, picking up the other two kittens. They seem to think that his fingers are toys. One of the tabbies chews on his fingers.

“It’s my brother. My sister just told me. He got suspended, but I don’t know why.” Garrett runs a hand through his still-damp hair. “Damn. What did he do this time?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Hawke.” 

Garrett throws on a hoodie. This nervous energy is not about to go away anytime soon. He needs to do something about it before he ends up exploding. “I’m gonna go on a walk.”

Anders guides the kittens toward his side of the room. He grabs one of his coats. “Here, I’ll go with you. It’s dangerous to walk alone at night.”

“I won’t go far.” To be honest, he isn’t sure if he wants to be alone or if he needs a friend.

“Then maybe you need someone to vent to.”

“Oh, all right,” Garrett says. The black kitten jumps down and attacks his shoelaces. He waits for Anders to finish putting on his shoes, fidgeting and pacing the entire time.

\---

Garrett holds onto his phone like a lifeline for the entire walk. Bethany never answered him, much to his annoyance and frustration. 

“You don’t drop a bomb like that on me and then not give any details!” he snarls to Anders. 

“That sounds rather frustrating,” Anders says with a frown. 

“It really is. Argh. This is why I didn’t want to leave home. Something always goes wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Anders asks as they go back into their dorm. 

Garrett feels his whole body go stiff. “Forget it. Never mind.” He sighs. “I think I’m gonna head home first thing in the morning. I just wanna make sure everyone’s all right.”

“What about classes?”

Garrett clenches his jaw. “The hell with that right now. I’ll be fine,” he adds, hoping he isn’t sounding too pissed off. 

Anders shrugs. “If that’s what you want to do.”

He’s surprised that Anders doesn’t have a lecture ready about the importance of attendance. Then again, he’d probably go off on him if he did. 

“Family’s important, Hawke.” 

Garrett doesn’t talk to his roommate for the rest of the night. He loads up his save on Pokemon. Maybe he can bury himself in trying to get the next gym badge. He tries to do some of his homework, but ends up getting frustrated and letting it sit on his desk. When he finally goes to bed, he tosses and turns for most of the night. He can’t sleep. His mind is racing, wondering what the hell happened with his brother.

The black kitten settles on his chest sometime during the night. The purring lulls him into relaxing a little. Only a little.

\---

Garrett pounds on the front door. Dog’s barking from the back yard. He quiets down, having caught Garrett’s scent. 

“Come on,” he mutters under his breath. “Someone answer the door.”

He waits a few more agonizing minutes before huffing out an impatient sigh and unlocking the door himself. He nearly forgot he had a copy of the house key. 

“I’m home,” he calls out. “Carver? Mom?” When nobody answers, he groans and rubs his eyes. They still itch from kitten contact. “Guess I’ll just wait for them to get home.”

His eyelids are heavy. He curls up on the sofa and falls asleep the instant his head hits the soft squishy surface. 

“Garrett, what are you doing here?” his mother says, jerking him out of a dream that does not involve a certain elf. 

He groans and sits up. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Good, he hadn’t started drooling. “Bethany told me about Carver.”

“I wish she hadn’t.” Leandra frowns. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“It’s a little late for that. Where is he, anyway?” He’s incredibly tempted to yell at the punk. 

“In the back yard. He’s pulling weeds.” She rests a hand on her hip. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“I thought this was more important.” He staggers in the general direction of the back yard. He’s still half-asleep, and his body isn’t responding well to his attempts to get moving. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“You’re welcome to try. He just shuts down when I try to tell him anything.” She sighs. Garrett realizes how tired she looks. It’s like she hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a while. He wants to hug her, but for now, he needs to check in on Carver. _One thing at a time._

Carver’s still pulling weeds when Garrett steps outside. In fact, he seems focused on one stubborn weed in particular. Dog’s ears perk up and he trots up to Garrett. His stub of a tail wags and he pants. 

Garrett pulls out one of Carver’s earbuds. “Carver,” he says in as calm a voice as he can manage. He isn’t shaking, so that’s a good sign. “I see you’re having fun.”

Carver doesn’t even look up. “If you came to tell me I’m a screwup, don’t bother. Mom’s already let me know I’m a friggin’ disappointment.”

“I wasn’t going to do that.” He sits on the grass next to his brother. “Mind telling me what happened?”

“What difference does it make?” Carver scoffs. “It’s not like you can change anything.”

“No,” Garrett admits. It feels like a punch in the stomach. “But maybe I can offer some sage advice.”

Carver snorts. “Fine, whatever. Do what you want.”

“Okay, really, what’s going on?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Carver finally succeeds at extracting the weed and tosses it over his shoulder. It lands on a pile of other yard clippings. “’Sides, it’s only a couple of days. No big deal.”

Garrett stares at him. No big deal? Really? “Fine.” He tries to shrug casually. “But you know, my phone’s always on. And there’s Skype.”

“Yeah.” Carver grabs a pair of shears and trims the bush in front of him. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“What’s your problem?” Garrett says before he can stop himself.

“Forget it.” Carver puts the shears down and rubs sweat off his forehead. “Look, don’t you have your boyfriend or something to get to? I’m kinda busy, in case you didn’t notice.”

Garrett huffs and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “All right. Just… call me if you need anything.” 

Carver grunts. He sticks the earbuds back in. 

Leandra looks up as he enters the living room. She raises her eyebrows in a silent question. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He realizes he’s shaking and forces himself to take a deep breath in an effort to calm down. 

“Then you should go back to school,” she suggests. “I can handle this.”

“Are you sure?” He hates the idea of leaving his family alone again. Something else is going to go wrong. It’s not the most rational thought, but it’s there in the back of his mind. 

“Garrett, really, it’ll be fine.” She gets up and adjusts the collar on his shirt. Satisfied, she pats his shoulder. “I’ve dealt with tougher situations.”

“Like Dad?” he asks quietly. _I wish he was here._ He swallows down the sudden lump in his throat. 

She nods, looking even more tired than before. “Like your father. Now go on.” She gives him a playful shove. “I’d hate for you to miss more school than you need to.”

He takes a moment to study the living room once more. His chest hurts. His everything hurts. What makes it more painful is that he knows the reason for it.

\---

He’s packing up to leave his nutrition class. To be honest, he hadn’t paid any attention to class today. He’s having trouble focusing. 

A ginger-haired woman approaches him. 

“Hello there. Remember me?” she says with a friendly smile. 

“Uh, sure.” Garrett clears his throat. He isn’t in much of a chatty mood. That and he doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t remember her. 

She laughs softly. “It’s all right. I’m Aveline, the RA from the other night.” She tilts her head. “You look like you need a sympathetic ear. How about something at the dining hall?”

Garrett rubs his calf with his foot. “I dunno. I’m kind of…” He trails off. It would be rude to refuse, wouldn’t it?

“My treat. Besides, food’s always good for you.”

He doesn’t feel like eating. He’d rather call his mother and see how she’s doing. She probably wouldn’t want to talk about it, anyway, he decides. “Sure. Food’s always great, period.”

\---

Karl looks surprised to see them, but he smiles when he greets them. He’s shaved his beard off today. His face looks naked without it. Garrett wonders briefly if his face would look that babyish if he were to shave. He scratches his beard. 

“I hope you’re doing well today, Garrett,” Karl says as he passes a plate of spaghetti over the counter. 

“Eh, could be better,” he says with a forced smile. 

“Then I hope it gets better.” He smiles, and Garrett feels like it’s going to take a while to get used to seeing Karl without his beard. 

Aveline picks a seat by a window. She has what appears to be a roast beef sandwich on her plate. Garrett picks at his spaghetti. He isn’t hungry at all, but he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful.

“So what’s going on?” Aveline takes a sip of juice. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.” She grins. “I’m an RA, so I know all about keeping secrets.”

“What kind of secrets?” 

She raises an eyebrow. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret. Nice try.” 

Garrett feels his lips twitch as he tries to smile. That feeling fades quickly when he sees that Aveline isn’t going to let it go. “It’s some stupid drama with my brother.”

“I see. Family can be difficult.” 

Aveline starts to say something else. She’s cut off by a cry of, “Heeeey Garrett! Garrett Hawke!”

Garrett mumbles, “Oh god.”

Isabela seemingly pops up out of nowhere, a huge smile on her face. “If it isn’t Aveline Vallen. I missed you, big girl.”

Aveline sighs. “You’re always a charming sight, Isabela.” Sarcasm drips through every word. 

Isabela, apparently oblivious to the glower that Aveline gives her, sits at the table next to Garrett. “Hey, at least I’m wearing a shirt this time around.”

Garrett gapes at her in horror. “What is it with people revealing personal details lately?”

“Try being an RA.”

“I’d rather not.”

“I’m sorry,” Isabela says, looking surprised. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Sort of,” Garrett says. Aveline seems to be busy chewing on her sandwich furiously. 

“Oh, then I guess I’ll definitely have to stick around.” She leans forward. Her elbow brushes against Garrett’s arm. “Sorry. So what’s going on? Both of you have a hell of a grumpy face.”

“Geez. Is it that obvious?”

“A little,” Aveline says. 

“See?” Isabela tilts her head. “So what’s up? Something’s bugging you.”

Garrett sighs before telling them about Carver. He occasionally pauses to clarify details. 

“What a little shit,” Isabela says when he’s done. “Damn. Sorry, Hawke.”

“It’s fine.” Garrett’s still trying to make himself believe it. _I should’ve been able to do something._

Aveline takes a moment to gather her thoughts. “Honestly, there isn’t much you can do about your brother. Just be as supportive as you can.” She looks sympathetic. 

“Yeah, I know.” Garrett’s lost his appetite. “Hey, I gotta go do homework or something. Oh. Aveline.”

She looks up from her sandwich. 

“D’you want to work together on that project for class?”

She nods. “Of course.”

Isabela turns her attention back to her fruit salad. She seems to be thinking about something. While they’re exchanging contact information, guilt continues to churn away at his stomach. He does, however, feel a little better about possibly making another friend.

\---

Garrett doesn’t see Fenris at The Worx! He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Didn’t he say he was usually closing? For crying out loud, it’s the middle of the day. With a sigh, he steps up to the counter. He needs the assistance of caffeine, even if it is like drinking concentrated dirt. 

“If you’re looking for the elf, I’m afraid he isn’t here,” says a woman with black hair. Her eyes are a strange color. “He was sent home.” _Are her eyes yellow?_ “’tis unfortunate.” _Is she wearing contacts?_

“Wait, he was sent home? Why?”

“He seemed to think it acceptable to try to work despite a cold.” She taps a finger on the counter. “If there’s nothing else…?”

“Oh. Just a small coffee, please.” He considers briefly. “And some hot tea for Fenris.”

“Of course.” She smiles, or at least Garrett thinks she does. He’s too busy feeling weirded out by her eyes. “No charge. Do make sure he isn’t dying. I would dislike having to make others take his shifts.” She sniffs. 

\---

He’s surprised he remembers where Fenris’s room is located. He somehow manages to balance two hot drinks while knocking. Hopefully Fenris isn’t asleep. Garrett would feel terrible for waking him. 

The door opens and he finds himself tensing. Fenris looks terrible. His green eyes are way too bright, and his cheeks are flushed. He’s also got a serious case of bedhead. If the circumstances were better, Garrett would find it adorable. 

“Oh. Hawke.” His voice is hoarse. “I’m sorry. Come on in.”

He sneezes as Garrett places the cup of tea on the table. “I brought something for you.” 

He blows his nose and winces. “You didn’t have to.” He takes a sip and sighs happily. “That feels good. Thank you.” 

“No problem. Maybe I didn’t have to do it, but I wanted to.” 

“Why?” Fenris licks his lips. His ears are turning red. 

_Be cool, Garrett. Don’t ruin this._ “You’re my friend, and I like helping my friends.” He scratches his chin. “It’s just what I do.”

Fenris chuckles before breaking into a series of coughs. Garrett gets up, alarmed, and starts to pour a cup of water. It’s a plain blue cup, not a Disney cup. 

“I’m all right. It’s just a cold,” he says with a soft groan. He takes the water anyway. 

“Then please feel better.” Garrett hates how pleading he sounds. “Maybe you should go lie down.”

“Maybe in a little bit.” He tries to smooth down his hair. “I must look terrible.”

Garrett snorts. “Nah. You look fine. You always look good.” _Oops. Did not mean to say that out loud._

“Oh.” Fenris ducks his head. “But you’re still worried.”

Garrett looks down at his lap. He isn’t sure how comfortable he is with sharing this, but… “My father. It, uh, turned out to be lung cancer.”

Fenris looks back up with wide eyes. Then his expression softens. “I promise it’s a cold.” He takes another sip of tea. “I’m sorry about your father.”

“It’s okay.” Garrett tilts his head. He’s about halfway through his coffee. He hadn’t even noticed it. Maybe it’s a sign that he’s getting used to the taste. “I haven’t told anyone about him. Nobody here, anyway.”

Fenris turns the cup in his hands. “Then thank you for sharing that. I imagine it can’t be easy.”

“It was a long time ago.” Garrett tries to shrug. _It still hurts, though._ “Sorry, you’re sick. I shouldn’t be bugging you with my bullcrap.”

“I can assure you that you aren’t bothering me.” Fenris closes his eyes. “I don’t mind you sharing your bullcrap, as you call it.”

Garrett takes a gulp of coffee to avoid responding and to cover up his blushing, damn his traitorous body. Sure, his friends assure him that he isn’t a bother on a semi-regular basis. Why is this different, then? _You know why._

“I heard that you had to leave your shift today,” Garrett says. 

Fenris winces. “That I did. Morrigan threatened to hit me with coffee grounds if I didn’t leave.”

“Wow.” Fenris’s cup of water is empty. “Hey, do you want me to get you more water?”

“I’m fine, Hawke.” He rubs his nose. “There’s no need to fuss over me so much.” He chuckles and clears his throat. “How’s your family doing?”

Now it’s Garrett’s turn to wince. 

“Did something happen?”

Garrett nods. And he explains. When he’s done, he just plays with his now-empty cup of coffee. 

Fenris is silent. He licks his lips and Garrett feels his gaze lock on that. 

“What do you think I should do?” Garrett asks. 

“Just wait and see what happens. Aveline is right. You really can’t do much about it. Besides…” Fenris sneezes and makes a face. Garrett passes him the tissue box. When he’s done cleaning himself up, he shakes his head. “Sometimes people need to mess things up for themselves before they can improve.” He wrinkles his nose. “I swear that made more sense in my head.”

“It’s all right. I think I understand.” Garrett sighs. “I still don’t like it.”

“It’s hard when it’s someone you care about.”

Garrett sighs. “Yeah, I guess.” He starts to get up. “I should probably go. You need to rest.”

Fenris sighs. “I suppose. Someday I’ll be a better host.”

That gets a laugh. Garrett realizes he’s still smiling by the time he reaches Precalc, his next class. How is it that Fenris managed to make him feel so much better? The Carver issue still lingers in the back of his mind, but it feels like less of a big deal. 

There’s a pop quiz, so he doesn’t have much time to worry about that. But it still hits him in the middle of a question about tangents and crap he’s probably never going to use.

_I have a crush on Fenris. Aw, fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About time, Garrett. Good grief!  
> Massive shout-out to boggszy! :D  
> Thanks for reading! Your support is greatly appreciated.


	6. Progress is Coming

Fenris and Anders glower at each other. The last session was kind of like that too, just those two glaring and starting arguments with each other. The effect is ruined since Fenris ends up sniffling every few seconds. It’s hard to look fierce and wolfy when recovering from a cold, Garrett supposes. Fenris’s nose is red, and he keeps getting up every ten minutes or so to blow his nose. 

Garrett’s trying not to pay too much attention to it, even though it’s cute as hell. Things are already awkward enough with that weird crush. _His_ weird crush. 

_Stupid feelings._

Luckily, Anders had been able to distract him all week by asking him questions about the campaign setting. He hopes he’ll be able to remember what he had said. Somehow he gets the feeling that Anders is the type to take extensive notes. 

Merrill raises her hand. “I have a question!”

“You don’t need to raise your hand,” Garrett says, smiling. _She’s so cute._

“Oh.” She lowers her hand with a giggle. “Right, so the question. I’ve been thinking about it, and now I’m curious. What is the biggest threat to the kingdom?” Merrill asks. “Um... Like, what do we get to beat up to save the world?"

“Er… Kobolds? Goblins?” 

Anders clears his throat. “Actually, you said that the rebels are the biggest threat.” He pulls out a notepad. “And I quote: ‘Shit, I dunno. I guess there’s a band of rebels who want to overthrow the king? And, like, they’re run by his brother.’ Q.E.D.”

“That is not how that phrase is used,” Fenris points out. 

Anders glares at him. 

“Get a room, you two,” Isabela says with a roll of her eyes. They stare at her in disgust. “I’m just saying.”

“I have a boyfriend.” Anders puts the notepad away for safekeeping. 

“The poor man,” Fenris says. He sniffles. 

“Look you—”

“All right, that’s enough,” Garrett says, stepping in. “Could you two, I don’t know, just… pretend to get along? At least for the session. Then you can go back to bickering all you like.”

“So which is it?” Merrill’s eyes are wide. “I hope it isn’t kobolds. They’re so cute.” She turns puppy dog eyes to Garrett. _Is that an elf thing?_

Garrett sighs. “Yeah, Anders is right.” He scratches the back of his head. “Guess I forgot. Sorry about that.”

Varric waves a hand dismissively. “It’s fun listening to you flounder around.” He grins. 

“Thanks so much. I feel so loved.”

Isabela wipes a fake tear from her eye. “It’s damn touching.” 

Fenris snickers, covering it with a cough before he starts coughing for real. He grabs his water bottle and takes a gulp. “I’m fine,” he says when the other look at him with concern. “It’s only a cough.” His eyes meet Garrett’s, and the corners of his mouth quirk. 

Anders passes him a cough drop. “Here, so Hawke can stop looking at you like that.”

“I’m not… Oh, whatever.” Garrett scratches his beard. _Maybe I should shave it soon. It’s getting bushy. I'm gonna look like a lumberjack._

“Why, Anders, I didn’t realize you cared,” Fenris says. He takes the cough drop and sighs in relief. “I’m touched.”

Anders mutters something under his breath, scowling. 

“I’d like to know more about these rebels, please.” Merrill’s voice is quiet. She’s smiling.

“Uhhhh…” _Crap. I was hoping I’d get more time to pull something out of my ass. And now everyone’s staring at me._ He fights back a self-conscious blush. 

“Lemme guess. You didn’t think that far ahead,” Varric says with an exaggerated quirk of his eyebrows. 

Garrett coughs. “Not really,” he admits. “Er, okay. So the leader of the rebels is the king’s brother. He feels like he deserves the throne. Plus there’s rumors that the current king poisoned his father.” _That’s good enough, right?_

“I say we support the rebels,” Anders says.

“You would,” Fenris says with a sigh. “We need more information.”

“Oh, please. I bet the king is a tyrant. That’s how these things usually work.”

Varric snorts. “Oh come on. That’s too predictable, don’t you think?”

Garrett cringes. _That’s what I was planning… Not so sure now._

Anders crosses his arms. “I’m just saying, that’s how these things usually go. The king turns out to be a horrible dictator who oppresses his subjects.” He points an accusing finger at Fenris. “You’re just being contrary.”

Fenris wrinkles his (red, somewhat dried, oh god why is it so cute) nose. “And you, good sir, are brilliant and observant.”

“You—”

Isabela clears her throat loudly. “Do I need to lock you two in a closet?” She turns to Varric. “Hey, when are you gonna update Swords and Shields?”

Varric blinks at the sudden change in subject. Garrett has no idea what to do. Though, really, he should be used to it by now. A nervous laugh wells up in his chest. Varric says, “Honestly, I’m planning on abandoning that garbage.”

She gasps. “Please don’t.” She pouts at him. 

Merrill chimes in. “I thought it was quite well-written!”

Varric sighs. He rubs his temples. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

Merrill clasps her hands together in delight. “Thank you, Varric! You’re the best.”

“If we can re-rail this session?” Anders says with a hint of impatience.

“Yes,” Fenris says. He looks like he has no idea what’s going on. To be fair, neither does Garrett. 

“Glad we could get you two to agree on something,” Isabela says with a wicked little grin. 

Fenris and Anders exchange a look. Fenris says, “Don’t read too much into it.” He looks at Garrett and runs his fingers through his hair. It looks so soft. “I’m sorry, Hawke.”

“It’s okay.” Garrett smiles. “I’m glad everyone’s settled down. But seriously, you guys can think about which side you’d rather join. For now, did you want to help the shopkeep get his crate of apples from the kobolds?”

\---

They’ve agreed to let Fenris’s character take the lead, since he’s not as squishy as the rest of the party. Good. Just what Garrett was hoping for. He resists the urge to rubs his hands together and cackle like a movie villain. 

Fenris’s character, an elven warrior, takes the first few steps into the cave where the kobolds are hiding. 

Garrett’s mouth twitches as he tries and fails to hold back a smirk. “Roll a reflex save.”

“Shit,” Isabela says. “What’s that mean?”

Fenris’s mouth twists. Garrett looks everywhere else but at those lips. _God damn it, self. Not now._ “It means that I walked right into a trap.” His glance flicks to Garrett, who needs to remember to breathe. “Probably.”

“Should’ve let me or Isabela go first,” Varric says with a huff.

Fenris rolls his d20. He winces. “I… could have rolled better.”

Garrett leans over the table. “Ow. Um, yeah.” Fenris rolled a three. “You fall into a pit trap. Take…” He rolls a couple of dice. “Five points of damage.”

“Ugh.” He turns to the others. “Looks like I’m stuck.”

They spend more time getting his character out of the pit. Isabela decides to take the lead, having put more of her skill points into trap-finding. They get through the dungeon with few mishaps after that, one of which involves Merrill somehow blowing up the leader of the kobolds into a bloody mist.

“Damn it, Merrill,” Anders says.

“Oh, I thought he was going to get away. Besides, it was a lot of fun!” She still has that innocent little smile. 

“And we all thought you were sweet and innocent,” Varric says. 

“Oh, please. She’s dating me.” Isabela stretches and her back pops.

“You’re a terrible influence,” Garrett says. He chances a look at Fenris, who’s sketching away on a piece of scratch paper. “Well, you found the crates of apples and a cart. What’re you going to do?”

“Shouldn’t there be a horse attached to that cart?” Merrill blinks. 

“There was.” Garrett lets the others use their imagination. 

“Poor thing.” Merrill finishes off her Cherry Coke. “Can we have a funeral for the pony? Pretty please?”

“We don’t have time…” Anders starts to say, faltering when Merrill gives him a pleading look. “Oh, all right.”

Fenris snorts, but stays silent. He coughs into his arm. 

“I say we take the apples back,” Isabela says. “And get the shop owner to make us pies. Lots of pies.” When everyone looks at her, she throws her hands up defensively. “Apple pies are awesome!”

“That they are,” Fenris says. He pops another cough drop into his mouth. They must be strong; Garrett can smell them from across the table. 

“Okay, so are we calling it?” Garrett says. When he gets a positive response (with some mild pouting from Merrill and Anders), he packs away his dice. “Sorry, guys. I gotta call my mom.”

“Awww. Tell Mama Hawke I said hi,” Isabela says. 

The evening air is still cold. It’s almost spring. _Whoo, and then I’ll get to deal with wonderful allergies,_ he thinks as he taps "Mother" on his contacts list. 

“How’s Carver doing?” he says once they’ve gone through the usual greetings and catching up. 

“As moody as ever. But he’s behaving himself. We haven’t had any incidents since he got back to school,” Leandra says. She sounds so tired. He wonders how long it’s been since she’s had a real vacation. “Do you have any plans for this weekend?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, good. I’m bringing the twins with me. I thought it would be good for them to get away from things for a little bit. I’ll take you to lunch.” He hears the smile in her voice. 

“Sounds great, Mom.” He starts coughing. His throat is sore. _Aw, crap._

“Are you all right?” His chest tightens at her concern. “Make sure you drink lots of juice. Take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, Ma, I’m fine.” He swallows, suddenly feeling like crying for no reason. “I’ll see you Saturday?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, baby. Tell your boyfriend I said hello.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Ma.” _It keeps happening!_

“You know I’ve got to meet him.” He imagines her smirk. “You’ve got to have Mama’s approval.”

 _Oh my god, Mom._ “Okay, Mom.” He looks behind him. Fenris has his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He stands there, looking unsure of himself. “Hey, I’ve gotta go. See you Saturday.”

“Take care of yourself, sweetheart. Love you lots.”

“Lots and lots, Ma.” He hangs up with a sigh. He says to Fenris, “Sorry. What’s up?”

“Oh, um…” Fenris clears his throat. His voice is still kind of scratchy. “I just… That is, if it’s all right… Movie night on Friday at the Grande Theater.” At Garrett’s blank look, he says, “The theater on campus? They sometimes show new-ish movies there. And plays and things like that.”

“Oh, cool. So…?”

“Did you… I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He coughs. He’s looking down at the ground like it's about to reveal the secrets of the universe. Or like he’d like the ground to swallow him up. “If you’re not doing anything Friday night, I think it would be fun to go.” He’s talking really, really quickly, and Garrett catches the hint of some accent he can’t place, but it’s making him roll his Rs. “I think they’re showing some kind of artsy horror movie.”

 _I hate scary movies._ “S-sure. That sounds like fun!” _Shit._

Fenris looks up, his cheeks a light pink. His lips quirk in a hesitant smile. “Cool. I’ll, uh, text you with the details as soon as I can.”

 _Is this… Is he asking me out?_ “Great. I look forward to hearing from you. And I’ll definitely be stopping by tomorrow for my usual Mocha Freezie.” _Holy crap. Holy-crap-holy-crap-holy-SHIT._

Fenris’s face blossoms in a full smile that reaches his eyes. Garrett’s heart is tap dancing. “I look forward to it. Good night, Garrett.”

Garrett stares after him as he walks away, his stomach doing little nervous flip-flops. _He called me “Garrett.”_ He pumps his fist in the air and whispers, “Yes!”

“Ooh, Creators. That was adorable,” Merrill coos.

“Congratulations, Hawke,” Isabela says. “You didn’t make a complete ass of yourself. Now who’s hungry?” 

While they’re eating dinner, Anders makes some snide comment about Garrett’s taste in men. Garrett, in response, throws peas at him. Isabela, of all people, scolds him for being immature. She promptly proves her point by poking carrot sticks into Anders’s ponytail.

“Don’t forget you have a meeting with your academic adviser tomorrow,” Anders says. He doesn’t seem to notice or care about the carrots in his hair.

Garrett sighs. “Yes, mother.”

“Hey, I’m just making sure that you are taking care of your responsibilities.” He plucks a carrot stick out of his hair and takes a bite out of it. 

\---

The seat cushions squeak when Garrett sits. The academic adviser for undeclared students is looking through Garrett’s academic records. The placard on her desk says “M. Stannard.” He admires the shine while anxiously waiting for her to say something. 

There’s a potted plant perched on the windowsill. Some kind of fern, he thinks. He’ll need to ask later, if he remembers. 

“Garrett Hawke,” she says, her face taking on a pinched look.

“Er, yes?” His voice comes out as a squeak. He’s trying so hard not to squirm, but it’s too quiet in here. Every little noise feels like it’s being amplified. The ticking clock on the opposite wall is going to drive him up the wall. 

“It says here that you are undeclared. Is that correct?”

Garrett’s face feels hot. He can’t get himself to make eye contact with her. It’s like he’s being judged. “Yes, I—”

“Do you have any idea what you would like to do?”

“Not really, but—”

She interrupts him again with a gusty sigh. That isn’t a good sound. Garrett’s brain shuts down, his heart pounding in his too-hot ears. He looks at the potted plant, as if it’s going to help him out. 

“I am going to ask you a question, Mr. Hawke, and I want you to give it some serious thought. Okay?”

“Okay.” His throat feels tight, and his stomach is clenching like he’s about to throw up. _Stay calm. It’ll just get worse if I do something stupid._

“What are you doing here?”

“Ma’am?” 

“I’m completely serious. Why are you here?”

He doesn’t have an answer for that. His eyes start to burn, and he blinks quickly before he can humiliate himself even more. When he speaks, his voice is small. He feels like a little kid that got caught breaking an expensive vase. “I just… I don’t know.”

She sighs again, more softly this time. Her blue eyes go gentle, though her expression is still harsh. “Tell you what. I’ll sign off on your papers and whatever you need to register for classes next semester.” She takes the small stack of papers from his hand, files through until she finds the two forms she needs, and signs them. “Honestly, though, I think you should pack up your things and go home until you know what you want to do with your life.” She shakes her head. “This university needs students that take their academic career seriously.” She slides the papers across the desk. “Good day, Mr. Hawke. And do think about what I’ve told you today.”

He nods, not trusting himself to speak. He’s pretty sure he’s about to cry or get sick. Maybe even scream. It’s right there in the back of his throat.

To his credit, he is able to keep it in until he’s well away from her office until breaking into a cold sweat. His legs give out and he slides along the wall until he's sitting on the floor. Sure, he could dismiss everything Ms. Stannard said. _But she’s right, isn’t she?_

Once he’s regained the ability to breathe normally, he checks himself. He feels sticky and sweaty. He ducks into the nearest bathroom and washes his face. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. It’s fine. I’m fine. Just take it one day at a time, right?_

_But what if…_

_What if she’s right?_

\---

“It’s okay, Hawkles,” Isabela says, patting his shoulder gently. “She told me the exact same thing.”

“I can’t believe that woman is allowed to work with students,” Anders says. He’s glaring down at his plate of lasagna like it offended him. 

“Right, well, try not to let it get you down. She’s wrong.”

“Yeah.” Garrett picks at his lasagna. He manages a smile. That’s something. And it does make him feel better that he wasn’t the only one who got that little speech.

“Hey, gang!” Varric says as he takes a seat. He takes a big bite out of what appears to be a grilled cheese and ham sandwich. “What’s with the long face?”

“Meredith,” Anders says with a grimace.

“Aw, shit. She’s _still_ here?” Varric shakes his head. “So who’d she tell to go home this time?”

Garrett raises his hand. “I take it this happens a lot.”

“She gives that speech to every undergrad. Something about it being motivational and weeding out whoever isn’t serious about their college career.” He pushes a class of Dr. Pepper or Pepsi in front of Garrett. “Drink up. Consider it a rite of passage. You’re officially a student here.”

Garrett’s smile widens, and he laughs softly. “Thanks, you guys. Sorry for letting it get to me.”

Isabela throws an arm around him and ruffles his hair. “Well, we can’t have you being all gloomy when your favorite elfy cutie is coming over here.”

“What?”

Varric calls out, “Hey, Elf!”

Across the room, a certain white-haired elf stops. He turns his head slowly to look at them. For a moment, Garrett thinks he's just going to keep walking. He does look like he's about to leave, orange in one gloved hand. Then he sighs and takes a seat in front of Garrett. 

“Good, you came to sit with the cool kids,” Varric says with a laugh.

“Correction, Varric,” Isabela says. Garrett takes a nervous mouthful of lasagna and almost chokes on it. “Fenris and I are cool. The rest of you are nerds.”

“That’s hurtful, Bela.”

“I never claimed to be a nice person.” She giggles. “So, you guys are going to movie night, right?”

Garrett stares at her. He might have some cheese in his beard. “Wait, what?”

“You know, the movie night thing they’re hosting at the Grande Theater.” She steals some of Varric’s fries. “Ew, soggy fries.”

Garrett keeps on staring. _But it was going to be a date with Fenris. Did she not get the memo? Oh god, maybe I was being dumb and assumed it would just be the two of us._ He looks at Fenris, who seems just as confused. “Uh, yeah, I’m going.”

“Oh, good. I’m dying to watch shitty movies with people.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Garrett says. “Do I have cheese in my beard?”

Fenris chuckles. “Yes, a little bit. Right here.” He taps his chin. Garrett looks at the tattoos on his chin. Not for the first time, he wonders how much of his body is covered in tattoos. “Unfortunately, I can’t stay much longer. I have class, and I was just getting ready to head out.” He gets up and stretches. “So long.” 

Garrett has a mouthful of lasagna, so all that comes out is a muffled, “Mm hmm.” _I am so classy._

Fenris covers up a smile behind his hand. It feels like an electric shock goes through Garrett’s body when they make eye contact, and he almost chokes on his lasagna again. He covers it up by chugging down half his Dr. Pepper. He starts coughing as the carbonation tickles his throat.

Isabela gives a low appreciate whistle once Fenris leaves. “Wow. You are one lucky man, Hawke.”

“Thanks?” He frowns. “I didn’t realize you guys were going to Movie Night as well.”

“Well, I have every intention of making sure your little date goes perfectly.” She tucks a curly strand of hair behind her ear. “God knows you need all the help you can get.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. And it isn’t a date,” Garrett says, blushing. “He just asked me to… go see a movie with him.” Isabela raises an eyebrow. “He’s just being friendly. Besides, we don’t know if he’s even into other guys. Or maybe he’s already seeing someone.” He jabs his fork in the air. “I’m just saying. We shouldn’t read too much into it.”

Isabela just says, “Sure. Whatever you say, Hawke.” She takes Garrett’s fork and finishes his lasagna. “Damn, that’s pretty good. Be right back, grabbing my own plate.”

\---

Garrett Hawke does not like scary movies. So he has no idea what he’s doing sitting here. _Oh, right. The ridiculously cute elf sitting next to me._ He feels like a giant clumsy bear in comparison. 

Fenris shifts, and his arm brushes against Garrett’s. Garrett has to cover up the weird gurgling noise trying to escape his throat. He tugs at his shirt collar. It’s getting hot in here. _Oh crap, I’m a mess._

Fenris tilts his head. “Are you all right? You’re, um, turning red.”

“Y-yeah. It’s just kinda warm in here.” Garrett clears his throat. _There! It isn’t exactly a lie._

“Ah.” He passes him a water bottle. “Here. I smuggled in some snacks and things.” 

“Ooh, you rebel.”

A soft chuckle that raises goosebumps on Garrett’s arms. “Want some Doritos?”

The movie starts up and Garrett grabs the bag of Doritos. He shoves a handful into his mouth. He’s already freaking out, and the movie’s still on the previews. He grips the armrest, and he ends up putting his hand on Fenris’s. _Oh crap._

He isn’t sure if he should pull his hand away. Fenris has gone still next to him. It’s hard to determine his expression in the dark. The only thing he sees is those big green eyes that glow a little in the dim light. His mouth is going dry.

Just when he’s about to pull his hand away, Fenris turns his hand and gently gives Garrett’s a squeeze. 

_Oh._ Fenris’s hand is warm through his gloves. His fingers tangle with Garrett’s. _His gloves are really soft. Oh god, is my hand sweaty? It totally is. He’s gonna think I’m gross._ But Fenris doesn’t move his hand. 

Garrett doesn’t pay attention to the movie, aside from some parts that make him jump and yelp. That, at least, makes Fenris laugh softly and give his hand an assuring squeeze. 

The hell with Meredith. 

The hell with his doubts. 

All that matters right now is the feeling of that warm hand and that soft white hair reflecting like starlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said D&D, but really, I'm running on Pathfinder rules. 3.5 and PF are pretty much the same thing, right? *nervous sweat*  
> I can't thank everyone enough for your continuing support! ;)


	7. The Answer is Probably No

Midterms are in two weeks, and Anders has convinced everyone to start studying now. 

“Don’t wait until the last minute and start cramming. That will only lead to disaster,” Anders had said. He had given Isabela a stern look. She’d just shrugged.

So now here they are in the common room of their res hall, studying. Even Fenris has joined them, but he’s taken a spot off to the side away from everyone else. Anders keeps giving him dirty looks. 

Garrett stares down his Precalculus textbook. He wishes he’d paid attention in class rather than doodling in the margins. 

“Having some trouble?” Fenris asks, suddenly appearing at Garrett’s side. Garrett jumps. He didn’t even hear Fenris get up. _Are elves extra sneaky or what?_

Garrett blinks. “I, uh…”

“It can be tricky. Here, let me see.” Fenris takes the book out of Garrett’s hands, and their fingers brush. 

Garrett’s stomach does a nervous flip, and his cheeks warm. He hopes it isn’t showing up on his face. “Um.”

Merrill and Isabela are whispering to each other while sharing notes. They’re pretty focused on their own work. Anders, meanwhile, is glaring down at his notes. Varric works at his laptop, earbuds shutting the rest of the world away. 

Fenris leans over Garrett, reading over his notes. He smells like coffee grounds and caramel syrup, and it’s the best thing Garrett’s ever smelled. “See, this is how it works.” 

He starts to explain when a dwarf and a human roll through on skateboards, whooping. Anders snarls at them, “Do you mind? We’re trying to study!”

As soon as they leave, heedless of Anders and the rest of the group, he grumbles something under his breath. 

Then the fire alarm goes off. 

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Anders says with a sigh as he gathers his things. 

“Some dumbass probably just pulled the fire alarm,” Isabela says with a laugh. “Or burned something in the kitchen.”

“I can’t wait to move off-campus,” Anders says. 

Garrett’s just glad for the break. 

\--- 

Garrett’s sitting at the edge of his bed. Thankfully, Anders is out right now. Somehow Garrett feels like he wouldn’t appreciate walking in on…

“Fenris,” Garrett manages to whimper out. He covers his mouth to muffle his moans. His breath comes in short huffs. He bites down on his thumb to try and get himself under control. His brain turns into a pile of mush.

Fenris looks up at him from between his legs, a wicked smile on his lips. Garrett’s toes curl. Damn, that’s hot. His cock throbs, aching to be touched.

He watches those long fingers trail along the outline of his hard-on, and he grips the sheets beneath them. Then Fenris starts massaging his groin. Okay, that’s kind of weird, but it feels nice, so he’s not complaining. Fenris’s fingers are warm to the touch through his underwear. 

He closes his eyes, just lying back and enjoying himself. 

Then there’s prickling. On his crotch. Wait, what?

He jerks awake.

He’s in bed with the covers pulled over his head. Damn it all. His subconscious can go screw itself.

His throat is scratchy, and there’s something small scratching around his thighs. He looks down and sees the black kitten kneading his lap. She mews at him before curling up on his stomach. He glares at her through watering eyes. 

Anders is fast asleep, the other two kittens curled up on his pillow. He probably has a face full of fur. How can he sleep through that?

He pushes the kitten off of his stomach. He needs a shower. A cold one. He groans and scratches his lower back. 

The kitten peers up at him with her big green eyes. 

He sniffles and scratches his nose. “I wanted to sleep in, damn you.”

Unconcerned with such ridiculous human needs as sleep, she starts washing her face. 

“Cats,” he mutters, draping his towel over his shoulder. 

He doesn’t take matters into his own hands while he’s showering. And he definitely doesn’t have to muffle his voice when he gasps out Fenris’s name.

 _I have issues._  


\---  


Anders is waking up when Garrett steps out of the shower, drying his hair. He sits up slowly, not disturbing the kittens. Garrett wonders how he does it.

“Would you like to come with me?” Anders asks. At Garrett’s puzzled look, he clarifies. “I need to get more food for the cats. They eat a lot.”

“I guess.” His mother had to cancel their plans for today. Something about having to cater for a friend’s party. “I’ll need to go pick up the twins, though. Afterwards, I mean.” He pulls a random shirt out of the dresser.

Anders shrugs. “Sure. We’re just getting food. And maybe a couple of cat toys.”

“Oh, no.” Garrett crosses his arms. “We do not need to get toys for the kittens.”

“They need stimulation or they’ll get bored.”

“They’re _cats._ They can amuse themselves.”

“Hawke, really?” He sighs. “Just wait until we get there.”

Garrett sighs and rolls his eyes. “Fine. Just so you don’t have to go alone.”

Anders smiles. “Thanks, Hawke.” He grabs a towel and starts making his way to the shower. “Do you mind keeping the kittens busy?”

Garrett blinks. “They’re still asleep.”

“Give it about five more minutes. They will want to play then.”

Actually, as soon as Anders turns the shower on, the kittens are meowing and crying for attention. Garrett tries to keep them busy by throwing bits of rolled-up paper in their general direction. They disregard the paper and start running at him. 

Garrett says, thinking out loud, “Well, all right, maybe you do need toys. But nothing fancy!” He glares at the little balls of fluff.  


\---  


Garrett stares at the little toy mice, his eyes wide. “Anders. Why didn’t you tell me that they make cute toys for cats?”

Anders cradles his small bag of cat food. “I didn’t think you were interested.” He raises an eyebrow as Hawke picks a small pack of brightly colored fuzzy mice. “I thought cats can amuse themselves.”

“But they’re so cute. And didn’t you say that cats need stimulation or they get bored?”

“And destructive.” Both of Anders’s eyebrows are raised now. “One of my old cats would chew on my shirts.”

“Then it’s settled.” Garrett hangs on to the toys in question. “I sure as hell don’t want the kittens to chew on my shirts.”

Anders smirks. “Of course, Hawke.” He nudges Garrett's shoulder. "Now shouldn't you go and pick up your siblings? I'd hate to keep them waiting, personally. Say hello to them for me. Uh, Carson and Becky, right?"  


\---  


Carver stares out the window, his fingers tapping on his leg. Bethany sits across from her twin brother, her brown eyes bright with excitement.

Garrett had insisted on them grabbing lunch at the dining commons before they head out, so here they are. Some part of him feels like he should have offered to get them lunch downtown instead. Another part of him balks at having to spend real money. 

Merrill spots them while they’re waiting in line at the burrito station. 

“Garrett! Hi!” She looks almost like she’s dancing while she bounces up to them. 

Bethany smiles politely. Carver’s face goes red and he just stares.

“Hey, Merrill. These two are my little brother and sister. Carver, Bethany, this is Merrill.”

“Ooh, it’s so nice to meet you.” She looks like she’s wearing a light amount of makeup. “I’ve got my volunteer thing today, I’m afraid. So I can’t stick around for terribly long.” She actually does look sorry about it. “But it’s nice to finally meet you two. You’re so cute.”

“Cute,” Carver wheezes. Bethany glances at him in curiosity. 

“I actually don’t want a burrito today, so I’ll just get a table for us. Unless you wanted to sit with just your family, Garrett?”

“I, uh… Do what you want.” Garrett scratches the back of his head. 

“I don’t mind, Miss Merrill,” Bethany says. 

Merrill giggles. “Just Merrill. And what about you?” she says, turning her attention to Carver, who turns an even brighter shade of red, if that’s possible.

Carver just stares down at his feet. “It’s fine, ma’am.”

Garrett stares at his younger brother in shock. Since when did Carver have manners? He’s about to say something to that effect when Bethany elbows his side. He settles for just clearing his throat awkwardly. 

The entire time they’re eating, Carver is more quiet than normal. When he chances a look at Merrill, his cheeks turn red all over again.  


\---  


Bethany scribbles in her notebook while they’re wandering the art museum. Carver seems to be in a daze. Sometimes he whispers to nobody in particular, “She said I’m cute.”

“So what’s this for?” Garrett says. He studies a painting of the ocean. Waves crash on the shore dramatically. He thinks it looks cool, but judging from the look on Bethany’s face, she doesn’t find it quite so impressive.

“Oh, we’re in an art class, and we’ve gotta visit a few museums throughout the semester. Something about becoming more aware of the community.” Bethany tilts her head as she looks at a painting of… Well, Garrett isn’t sure what it is. It just looks like a bunch of random splotches on the canvas. 

“And here we see a stunning commentary on the nature of existence.” Garrett’s voice, dry and sarcastic, echoes through the room. Oops. He didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“Sure, if that’s what you’d like to call it,” Carver says, mouth twisted into a grimace. 

“I like it,” Bethany says. “It’s kind of like a controlled chaos.” 

Carver snorts. “Okay, then.” He goes back to studying something that makes a little more sense. “Gotta agree with Garrett on this one. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Hey, at least you two agreed on something for once.”

Garrett laughs at that. 

Carver scoffs. “Yeah, don’t read too much into it.” He tries to narrow his eyes at Garrett. The effect is ruined because he breaks into a sudden smile. “Shit.”

“Don’t worry, Carver. Your secret is safe with me.” Garrett drops his voice down to a whisper. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think you cared about something, after all.”

“I care about things. Lots of things.” He scratches at a small cluster of pimples on his chin and winces. 

“Like…?”

“Cool things, for one.” 

Bethany sighs. “Really, you two. Can’t we just look at the pretty pictures?” She raises an eyebrow at the sculpture of a trash can in the middle of the room. “Like this thing.”

Carver studies it intently. His blue eyes are unreadable, and he cups his chin as he seems to lose himself in thought. Garrett looks at him expectantly. Maybe something about this really speaks to him on a personal level. Bethany is reverently silent, her eyes wide as she waits for a response from her twin. 

“I think I get it now.” Carver’s voice comes out solemn and thoughtful. 

Bethany tilts her head. 

“Like, I really, truly think I understand what this piece is saying right now.”

“Do tell,” Garrett says. 

Carver looks over it one last time, his expression serious. “It’s a fucking trash can.”

Bethany smacks him on the arm, and Garrett breaks into laughter. All things considered, this hasn’t been a bad outing.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Carver says as he turns and walks away. 

“Where…?” Bethany starts to ask.

“Bathroom. Don’t wait up.”

They’re still wandering around a little bit when Merrill wanders into Garrett’s field of vision. She’s taking notes, her tattooed brow furrowed in concentration. He debates on the wisdom of interrupting her. Bethany makes the decision for him. 

“Oh, isn’t that your friend from school? Merrill, right?” Without waiting for an answer, she waves and calls out Merrill’s name.

Merrill looks up, startled, then breaks into a sunny smile. “Oh, hello there. I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

“It’s for an assignment at school,” Garrett says. 

“I see.” Merrill’s gaze trails down to her clipboard. “I’m really sorry, but I am working right now, so…” She shuffles her feet, her smile tightening. 

“Right. Sorry. Good to see you, Merrill,” Garrett says. 

“Sorry, Hawke. Any other day, I’d be more than happy to stop and chat. But it’s kind of a busy day.” Merrill sighs. “By the way, I saw your brother heading outside. Is everything all right?”

“Um, yeah.” He and Bethany exchange looks. She just shrugs. “He’s probably just going to the car for something.” _But I have the keys._

“Well, all right. I’ll see you at school, Hawke.” She turns her attention back to her clipboard. From time to time, she glances up at Garrett and Bethany like she wants to say something. 

“Let’s head out to the car,” Bethany says suddenly. 

“Getting hungry?”

“Not really.”

Garrett’s got the car parked right outside the museum. He looks around for his brother, who is nowhere to be seen. “Maybe he went back inside.”

“I’ll go look.” Bethany darts inside. 

Garrett sends a text to Carver, asking where he is. There’s no response, and he sighs. 

Bethany walks back out, looking anxious. “I couldn’t find him, and he isn’t answering his phone.”

Garrett starts to worry, but he tries to tell himself to calm down. Maybe Carver’s phone died? No service, maybe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait!! Thanks so much for your patience, everyone! You guys are the best. I hope y'all have a happy and awesome new year. 2015 sucked. XD


	8. Hopes and a Dream

Fenris wakes up from _that dream_ again. The one with the cold hands pinning him down, wrapping around his neck until he can’t breathe… Cold eyes freeze him to the core. He can’t move.The whisper in his ear, “You belong to me, Fenris. Only me and no one else.”

Then the pain. Oh gods, the pain. It stabs all over his body. “You will be my masterpiece, my little wolf. And the world will know that you are mine.”

His stomach churns, blood running cold, and he can’t stop shivering. He hasn’t had that dream in a year. At least. He thought he was done with that. All of it. 

A bird chirps outside. He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. He’s here now. Not there. Not with that man. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and slowly opens them again. 

He’s free. 

Still shaking, he runs a hand through his hair. He has an interview today, and he needs to do well. He can’t stay at The Worx! forever. 

He wants to throw up. He clamps a hand over his mouth and takes deep breaths until the urge passes. A shower will clear his mind. 

So he hopes. 

\---

“I’m calling Mom,” Bethany says, getting her phone from her backpack.

“What? No!” Garrett says, maybe more loudly than necessary. A couple of passersby goggle at him and walk faster, whispering to each other. 

Bethany gives him a look. “Seriously? We can’t find Carver.” 

“Nah, it’s fine. We’ll find him.”

The look turns more skeptical, if that’s possible. Bethany’s phone is still in her hand. 

“Look, if we don’t, then you can call Mom.” Garrett’s voice sounds pathetic, even to him. “But I know we’ll find him.”

“If you say so,” she says slowly. Her phone slowly makes its way back into her pocket. 

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll find him.” Garrett strikes a confident pose that he saw on some anime Merrill had been watching the other day. It’s ungodly levels of shaky, probably because of his nerves. “Let’s look in the lobby again.”

They’ll find Carver.

So he hopes.

\---

Fenris plasters on what feels like the fakest smile known to man… Or elf, as the case may be. The woman in front of him--Josephine, he reminds himself, her name is Josephine--is jotting down notes on a clipboard.

She asks him something about why he’s applying for the position. He gives a canned response that he hopes is passable. She nods at all the right places, hums in thought. 

“That’s right,” she says suddenly. “You’re a barista at the cafe. You always make my drinks perfectly.”

Fenris inclines his head. “I… Thank you?”

She smiles, her teeth sparkling in the light. An award-winning smile, Varric would call it. “Now, I’m sure you’d be a great fit for us. I just need to get approval from my supervisor, and you’re hired. It should only take a few days, and we’ll contact you via email.”

Fenris blinks, taken aback. He wasn’t expecting a positive response. Da--- _he_ used to tell him that he was a sullen, abrasive punk. 

Things have changed, he thinks. Perhaps I’ve also changed for the better. 

Josephine is still waiting for a response, he realizes, cheeks warming. “Thank you very much. For the opportunity.” 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Fenris.” She stands and shakes his hand. “I look forward to seeing what you do here.”

Tutoring has to be miles better than being screamed at for not having ice at the bottom of an iced tea. 

So he hopes. 

\---

Anders swirls his iced tea, or what’s left of it, around for what feels like the thousandth time. Where is Karl? He should have been here fifteen minutes ago. He takes a sip from his drink, getting nothing but ice water. He considers getting a refill. 

But he doesn’t want to miss Karl when he does decide to show up. 

This is strange, Anders thinks. He’s never been late before. He doesn’t seem to be answering his phone, either. It isn’t like Karl to forget...

“You look like you’re waiting for someone,” says a dwarf girl at the table next to him. She smiles warmly, making her eyes crinkle. 

“Er, yes.” Anders smiles. The corners of his lips twitch ever so slightly. He hopes it isn’t noticeable. “He’s just running late, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” she says with a knowing look that nags at Anders. His smile evaporates, and she blinks. “Hey, come on. I didn’t mean it like that.” She sighs. “I’ll get you another drink, just please quit making that face.”

What face? “It’s all right.”

_No_ is clearly not a valid answer; she’s already at the counter ordering Maker-knows-what. Well, free drinks aren’t so bad. 

He sends a text (again) trying to see if he gets a response this time around. 

Karl will answer.

So he hopes.

\---

“You can’t be serious, Rivaini,” Varric says, throwing up his hands. 

He’s always had a flair for the dramatics, Isabela thinks with a thin smile. That’s how she feels now: Like she’s been stretched way too thin for this bullshit. “Oh, but I am.”

“You know everyone will wanna know why.”

“And you know I’m not meant for this kind of thing,” she says with a general gesture to indicate the campus. “I’ve been on probation how many times?”

Varric’s silence is enough of a response for her. 

“Exactly. No, I need to go out and see the world. Travel, while I’m still young and all that shit.” She stretches and her shoulders pop. “Then maybe I can see about coming back and being serious about academics.”

“And Daisy?”

Isabela flinches, heart sinking. She looks away from Varric, not wanting to look him in the eye. “She’ll get over it.” She tries lightening her tone. “Besides, she doesn’t need someone like me holding her back! Pfft.” She waves it off. “She can do a hell of a lot better than little old me anyway.”

Varric seems to believe her.

So she hopes.

\---

“I told you I was in the bathroom,” Carver snaps, twisting his arm out of Garrett’s grasp. “Not my fault you weren’t listening.”

Bethany keeps her gaze on the sidewalk.

“I didn’t see you in the bathroom.” Garrett tries to keep his tone as patient as possible. “Where were you, really?”

“In. The. Bathroom.”

“I’m not going to tell Mom.”

“Forget it. Let’s go home.” Carver mutters something else under his breath, and Bethany’s cheeks turn red. He gets into the passenger’s seat and slams the car door shut.

Garrett huffs out a breath. What’s his problem? “Fine. Whatever.” 

Bethany sits behind Garrett, still not looking at either of her brothers. She’s very quiet the entire drive home. So is Carver, but he’s glaring out the window. Once in a while, he blows out a loud sigh. Garrett almost wants to yell at him, but it isn’t worth the argument. 

Garrett thinks the entire drive home, What the hell is Carver’s problem? Was it something I did? We seemed to be doing so well up until that last little bit. 

And where the hell did he go? Maybe he was in the bathroom, like he said he was. But then I would’ve seen him, right? 

Sorry, Bethany. She keeps getting caught in the middle of all this. She shouldn’t have to put up with this.

Maybe I’m overthinking this whole thing…

So he hopes.

\---

Merrill’s eyes are wide, but she listens as Isabela breaks the news to her. 

“You’re dropping out,” Merrill says quietly once Isabela is done. “Where are you going to go? What are you going to do?”

“Travel, of course.” Isabela reaches for Merrill’s hand, but she pulls it away gently. “Kitten.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Merrill’s voice breaks on the last syllable. “You’re just going to, what, give up and leave? Just like that? You’re going to… to just leave school behind? And…” She bites on her trembling lower lip. “And me.”

“It isn’t like that. I just need…” She sighs, thinking about her answer carefully. Like it isn’t hurting her heart to see the tears well up in Merrill's eyes. “I need to figure out my own shit. I need to figure out what I want for myself. Not what some school wants.”

Merrill blinks rapidly a few times and sniffles. “Fine. If that’s what you want to do, I know you’re just going to go ahead and do it anyway. You’re… you’re a stubborn shem like that.” 

“Maybe. But I’m your stubborn _shem_.” Isabela chuckles and wipes her eyes. “It won’t be forever, Merrill.”

Merrill sighs. “If you say so.” She waggles a finger in Isabela’s face. “One thing though! I expect a souvenir of some kind. And I won’t wait around forever.”

Isabela smiles fondly. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Maybe this will work out. 

So she hopes.

\---

“Sorry I’m late,” Karl says as he takes a seat across from Anders. 

“It’s been nearly an hour. Where were you?” 

There’s a long moment of silence. Anders watches conflicting thoughts dance across Karl’s expression. His moustache twitches briefly before he says, “I brought my notes. I think I understand number twelve, but I’m not so sure… What did you get for…?”

“Karl.” Anders clenches his jaw. “Answer my question please.”

Karl glances around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, then shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Anders can’t keep the hurt out of his voice. “We tell each other everything.”

“I can’t,” Karl repeats, like he’s talking to a child. 

Anders shakes his head. He doesn’t say anything else. Instead he packs up his things and walks out. Karl doesn’t even follow after him, just watches him with a kicked-puppy look that makes Anders even angrier. 

It isn’t until he’s back in his and Garrett’s room that he gets a text from Karl.

Karl: _I’m joining the Andrastian fraternity. You know which one._

He reads it once and stops dead in his tracks, still holding his bookbag. “Aw, _fuck no._ Why is he getting involved with the Templars?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy butts, I live!! Sorry for the long-ass wait! I hope it was more or less worth it!


	9. Well, He Tried

Garrett looks over the table, hoping his expression is appropriately dramatic. Everyone’s character tokens are arranged on the poorly-drawn dungeon map. Merrill scribbled a few flowers along the edges. If Isabela were here, Garrett thinks with a pang, she would have drawn a few dicks. 

Damn, he misses her. 

“Sorry I’m late. My relief decided to take her time coming to let me sign out. I hope I didn’t miss too much,” Aveline says, unceremoniously dropping her bookbag by her seat. A few strands of hair escape her bun. 

So far, the party’s gone through most of the dungeon, somehow evading most of the traps. Garrett made sure to make quite a few of them incredibly obvious, baiting Varric into letting his guard down. 

Hopefully it works. 

“Oh, not at all,” Merrill says. “We just got through the first and second floors of the dungeon, and now we’re staring at this massive chest.”

Anders snorts. So does Fenris, but he covers it up with a quick cough. 

“Treasure chest.” Merrill giggles. 

“Which brings us back to Varric. What are you going to do?” Garrett asks while Aveline takes out her character sheet and a pencil. 

“All right, I open the chest,” Varric says, crossing his arms. He sounds so confident, Garrett almost feels bad. That chest is actually a mimic, waiting to pounce on its unsuspecting prey.

Garrett smirks. He was hoping it would be that easy. 

“Shouldn't we check for traps?” Fenris cuts in. He shoots Garrett an apologetic glance.

Damn. 

“Damn,” Varric says, echoing Garret’s thought. “You're right.” 

“Hold on,” Anders cuts in. “That can’t be right.”

“Huh?” Garrett blinks. 

“I mean, Varric, you’ve already said you’re going to open the chest. How is it fair to basically take it back?” He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. He clears his throat. “Of course, it’s entirely up to the DM.”

Garrett sighs. Of course Anders would pull something like this right now. What to do? He’s inclined to just let Varric check for traps like he wants. 

Fenris grumbles something under his breath and Anders visibly bristles, the feathers on his hoodie actually somehow ruffling a little. It reminds Garrett of a Miyazaki movie. 

He’s about to say something, anything to keep Fenris and Anders from bickering, when a booming voice interrupts. “Clear out now. This area belongs to the Arishok.”

Garrett looks up, startled. 

And his immediate thought is, _Holy shit._

They’re not human, that much is obvious. Humans don’t generally have horns. Or gray skin. He gulps. They’re huge. Garrett isn’t a small guy himself, but compared to them, he feels about as tall as Varric.

No offense to Varric. 

“And you are…?” Anders says, still looking ruffled. 

The tallest of them steps forward. “I am the Arishok, and we have reserved this room for our weekly Gamers’ Clan meetings.” In one large clawed hand, he’s holding a small box with dragons painted on it. “So unless you wish to duel, you must clear out immediately.”

“Duel?” Garrett asks, not missing the exasperated huff from Anders or the soft grumble from Fenris. 

Damn, but his voice is so pleasant. Nah, that’s an understatement. It goes straight to his heart. 

And a little lower, but this isn't the time or the place. 

The Arishok snorts. “Have you not heard of Wizards: The Conjuring?” His sneer says it all. _You uncultured, backwards heathen._

“It’s a card game,” Varric says, ignoring the Arishok. “The concept is you’re both wizards or some shit, summoning monsters and casting spells to beat the hell out of each other.”

“Oh, is that all?” Anders says, clearly not interested. In fact, he’s pulled out a nail file from who-knows-where and is filing his nails.

“I think it sounds interesting,” Merrill says with a small smile. It’s the first time she’s smiled since Isabela left, Garrett realizes. 

He doesn’t know how he feels about that. Then again, he doesn’t know how he feels about a lot of things. 

Like Fenris, for instance. He’s pretty sure that he _likes_ Fenris, but they haven’t really spent time together since the movie. Garrett’s ready to chalk it up to the fact that they’ve both been busy with teachers deciding to drop more homework on them, but…

“It is more than a card game!” The Arishok growls, snapping Garrett out of his thoughts. “It is a deeply engrossing dueling experience with unrivalled complexity and compelling lore.”

“Oh, I’m not denying that.” Varric holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m a fan of the lore, myself. The Cynder Arc? Absolutely brilliant and tragic.” 

“While I hate to break up this conversation,” Aveline cuts in, earning another growl, “I do feel the need to say something. There are no reserving tables in the residence halls. They’re free to anyone who wants to use them.”

“Our clan has always used this area at this time. It has been our way since the Arishok before me. And the one before him.” He sweeps his arm in a dramatic gesture. The two horned people behind him exchange a look. 

Wait, is Arishok a title and not a name? Garrett’s kind of confused now. Like some kind of mix between confused and intimidated. He’s more inclined to lean towards intimidated. 

“Regardless, I’m afraid this area was in use before your group walked in.” Aveline doesn’t look away from the giant horned man. 

“Aveline, it’s fine,” Garrett starts to say. 

“We will not be pushed out of our traditional gaming area. We are Qunari! We do not back down from a fight.”

“I never suggested a fight.” Aveline sounds tired and deeply unimpressed. “If you do want a fight of sorts, I suppose I could suggest playing a match of your ridiculous card game if you want this so badly.” 

“It is not a ridiculous card game!”

Fenris steps in. “Arishokost. Maraas shokra.” 

He says some other things that Garrett can’t understand, but it seems to get something of a reaction. 

The Arishok raises an eyebrow. He goes silent. 

Garrett wants to ask what Fenris just said, but he feels like that’s going to start another round of shouting. He isn’t sure if his nerves can handle it just yet. 

Aveline looks back and forth from the Arishok to Fenris, then shakes her head and sighs. She mutters, “Do what you want, I’m too tired for this nonsense.”

“Very well.” The Arishok immediately locks eyes with Garrett, who breaks into a nervous sweat instantly. “You. I shall duel with you for the honor of using this space. If I am the victor, then you and your party are to relocate immediately. If I lose, then we will leave you alone. Is that understood?”

“I… what?” Garrett says, his voice coming out in an embarrassing squeak. 

“I am challenging you to a match.” The Arishok sneers. “Or are you too frightened to even try?”

Oh hell yes, Garrett’s afraid. He’s afraid, and Fenris is watching, and he’s never played this stupid game in his life, so he has no idea what he’s getting himself into. Yet his stupid mouth takes over, and he says, “Challenge accepted.”

What am I doing? he asks himself as Anders sighs loudly. 

Varric and Fenris clear off the table, Fenris marking where everyone’s character tokens would be located. Aveline pulls a sandwich out of her bag and starts eating, still looking displeased. Garrett can’t blame her. She’d come out here to play, and she not only missed most of the session, but now she gets to watch Garrett fail miserably.

Merrill looks intrigued, though there’s the slightest hint of worry creasing the skin between her eyebrows. Still, she watches carefully as the Arishok shuffles his cards slowly and deliberately. It reminds Garrett of a tiger scenting its prey. He gulps.

“You do not have a deck, correct?” The Arishok gestures. One of the other horned men (wearing a very tightly-fitted muscle shirt) holds up a box the size of Garrett’s head. He takes the lid off, still keeping a stoic expression. “In this box, there are a few decks. You are free to make your selection. Choose your destiny. And choose wisely.”

Garrett peers into the box. There are a few deck boxes with different designs on them. They look like they were hand-painted. Well, he supposes, everyone has their hobbies. He grabs the first box that catches his eye. It has dramatic ocean waves painted on it. 

“This one,” he says.

The Arishok raises an eyebrow. “Are you not going to look at it first?”

Garrett shakes his head. He just wants this done and over with. “I’m the type of guy that relies on instinct.” 

Varric says, “Hawke, you should probably look at it first. You don’t know if it’s going to mesh with your play style.” 

Garrett’s hands start to shake. “Well.. All right.” He opens the deck box and starts thumbing through the cards. He doesn’t see what difference it’s going to make, since he has no idea what any of these cards mean or even how the game works. 

“Are you sure you don’t want any of us to duel you instead?” Fenris asks. “No offense to Hawke, but Varric and myself both have more experience with the game.”

Fenris plays? Damn, seems like he does a little bit of everything. How does he do it? 

Garrett decides that no matter how this match turns out, he’s going to learn how to play. 

“Surely either one of us would be more of a challenge.” 

Garrett is focusing on the cards, like he’s going to somehow magically understand what they mean. The one he’s looking at looks like some kind of armored bird, even though the card says it’s a goblin. 

“This one is a monster card,” Varric explains. “The numbers at the bottom are its attack power and its defense levels, see? And then the icons at the top are…”

Garrett hears Varric as he gives a quick run-down of the game, but he isn’t sure how much of it he’s understanding. He’s got to give this a decent shot though. If nothing else, at least he can say that he tried. 

“Okay, so how are we doing this? Best two out of three?”

The Arishok considers for a moment.

Merrill takes the time to continue doodling on the dungeon map, adding a few little puddles of water and stalactites… Or are they stalagmites? Garrett could never remember the difference.

“Hawke.” Fenris looks at Garrett seriously. “You don’t have to do this. It isn’t a big deal.”

Garrett shrugs, pretending to be more brave than he feels. _Fake it til you make it, right?_ “It’s only a card game.” He glances at the Arishok, who doesn’t even bother to acknowledge his comment. He isn’t sure if he’s insulted or relieved. 

“Yes, best two out of three. However, we should play a practice match, for the sake of fairness.” The Arishok sounds like he’s passing judgment. “I will not duel someone who has absolutely no experience. Therefore, the practice match will be for the sake of teaching you the mechanics of the game. Your friends are free to help you, but when we begin the duel, they will not be able to do so. Is that understood?”

“This is ridiculous,” Anders says, picking up his bag and starting to walk away. 

Aveline looks like she quite agrees, though she doesn’t move. She’s about halfway through her sandwich. She sees the look on Garrett’s face and shrugs. “I agree, but I’m curious to see how this goes.” 

“You are too afraid to watch your friend face defeat?” The Arishok laughs. 

Anders stops. He doesn’t turn around. “Oh, I’m not afraid. I just think this is a waste of time.”

“Truly you are a great friend, abandoning your Hawke when he needs support.” 

Anders turns around, his cheeks red. “Fine,” he says between clenched teeth. “I’ll sit down and watch your bloody stupid game.” 

The Arishok doesn’t respond. 

Garrett decides that he and Anders aren’t worth much in the Arishok’s eyes. Time to prove him wrong, then. He’s determined to do well against the horned giant. 

\---

About an hour, Garrett stares in dismay.

The Arishok roars with laughter. With a gesture, his companions start laughing too. It sounds forced, though. 

“The terms are the terms.” The Arishok holds out a hand, intending for Garrett to shake it. “That was well-played, for a beginner. You have earned some of my respect today, Hawke.”

“Uh… Thanks?” Garrett takes The Arishok’s hand and shakes it awkwardly. 

“As a parting gift, you may keep that deck. Perhaps in the future, we may duel again.”

Garrett blinks down at the deck. “I… Are you serious?”

Nod.

“Are you sure?”

Another nod. “Do not question me, Hawke. I am not a patient man.”

“Gotcha, thanks. Greatly appreciated.” He looks at the others, who look some degree of disappointed. He quickly picks up his deck and carefully puts it back in the box. “Well, everyone, a deal’s a deal. Guess we’ll have to find another place to play.”

He manages to keep his tone light, even though he feels like he’s failed miserably. At least he got what seems to be a nice deck out of the deal. And The Arishok doesn’t seem to completely hate his guts. 

It’s a start. 

\---

Garret stares at his new deck of cards. This has to be the fifth or sixth time he’s looked at them, studying them like a foreign language.

It might as well be, with how little sense everything is making. He’s going to have to learn how all this works. 

“Are you looking at those damned cards again?” Anders says, not looking up from his book. “Don't you have a test coming up in a couple of days?”

Garret keeps staring down at his cards spread out on his bed. “Well, yeah. But I want to understand how this all works. I get that they all work together somehow, but I can't quite place it.”

Anders sighs. “If I help you, will you study for your test?”

“Yes, mother. What’s gotten you in a mood lately?” He frowns. Come to think of it, Karl hasn't really been around that much.

“It’s nothing.” Anders frowns as he sorts the cards into different piles. 

“Did something happen with you and Karl?” 

“You don't need to concern yourself.with my personal drama, Garrett.” He glares at one card with intensity. “This is a nasty little card. It could have saved you in that last round with that Qunari bastard.”

“Ku-what now?”

Anders stares at him. “Qunari. The giant horned people that we dealt with just the other day?”

That's what they're called. Garrett files that away for later reference. “Okay. So how does this work, exactly?”

Anders waves a hand. “Still figuring that out, give me a minute.”

Garrett is silent for the span of a few breaths. “I didn't know you played.”

“Eh. I used to. I lost interest when I realized they were just going to keep creating expansions and new cards and the like.” He clears his throat. “Textbooks are expensive, and so I ended up selling all of my rares. Except one.” He winks. “Maybe I'll show you someday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The card that Garrett was looking at? Definitely not Zo-zu the Punisher. Nope.


End file.
